


rubato

by oh_la_fraise



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, For Want of a Nail, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Threats of Violence, Unreliable Narrator, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_la_fraise/pseuds/oh_la_fraise
Summary: At the end of the day, Alex has always been the practical one.Or:Julie finds two ghosts in her studio after the Orpheum.  She and the band work through their grief over Alex having seemingly crossed over, but you know what they say: when you assume. . .
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina & Willie, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Reggie Peters & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 174
Kudos: 284





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, buckle in, because is the biggest thing I've written in a long time. I've been working on it for weeks and have a good chunk done; I'm going to do my best to update every week, with the huge giant caveat that I'm moving soon and I work (safely and remotely at home) in public health, so IRL is kind of crazy at the moment. It will be completed eventually, though. 
> 
> Please, _please,_ **read the tags,** particularly the author chose not to use archive warnings one. I think it will be pretty obvious fairly quickly the direction this fic is headed in, but I don't want to show all my cards just quite yet. I can say that non con and underage **do not** apply to this fic. I personally don't think graphic violence applies either, but this fic will be more violent than the source material, given the show is ultimately for kids.

“I know I said this already, but thank you guys.”

As the ambient noises of Los Angeles at night time filtered into the otherwise quiet loft, Julie took a deep breath and looked at the twenty-five year old instruments piled in the corner. For the first time since her Mom had passed, Julie felt at peace. Her Mom had sent her a lifeline when she’d needed it most, and in return, Julie had been able to help fulfill the guys’ biggest wish and ensure they’d crossed over peacefully to the other side. Everyone was safe, everything had worked out, and, even without the Phantoms behind her, Julie had a bright future ahead of her.

Then came a faint “you’re welcome,” in Reggie’s hoarse, tear-strained voice, followed by an exasperated _dude!_ from Luke, and the moment of peace fled faster than Carlos when Dad had tried to make him a homemade birthday cake.

She flicked on the light, trying to understand the scene before her. Luke and Reggie were curled in on each other, collapsed on the floor; even from here, she could see the tear tracks on their cheeks, the grimaces on their faces. But it was what she _didn’t_ see that scared her the most. Luke and Reggie were practically on top of each other, and in the harsh light of the studio, Alex was nowhere to be seen. 

“What—why are you here?” 

A jolt shuddered through the boys, and they both groaned, bodies spasming. Agonizingly slowly, Reggie managed to pull himself up until he was propped against the piano. “Whatever Luke and I had to do, apparently it wasn’t playing the Orpheum.”

She closed her eyes and forced out the foremost question on her mind. “And Alex?”

Luke took a deep breath, in and out of his nose. Even across the room, Julie could hear the rasp in it. “He’s gone. We don’t know if the Orpheum was actually his unfinished business, or—” He didn’t continue, but he didn’t have to. _Or he’d been killed by the jolts first._ Since the very first moment Julie had met them, the Phantoms had been individual parts of a whole. It made no sense for Alex’s unfinished business to be different than the others’, and by the look of things, Luke and Reggie weren’t long for this world either.

Julie had the morbid passing thought that they probably hadn’t died at the exact same moment the first time either. 

The nausea that had faded earlier in the evening when the boys had finally shown up on stage came back roaring in full force like she’d taken a knife to the gut. Nothing could compare to losing her Mom, the person who’d held her when she’d cried, who’d celebrated when she’d gotten an A in history, who’d brushed her her hair when Julie had the flu, but even in the short time she’d known them, the boys had become so integral to her life. She’d made her peace with them moving on, but the thought of their sparkling personalities disappearing completely, as if they’d never existed, made her sick. 

But maybe she wasn’t too late to save Reggie and Luke.

“—please, go join Caleb’s club,” Julie begged. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks; she was an ugly crier, she knew, but she didn’t care. Reggie and Luke weren’t looking so hot either, and surely the view was better than when the hotdogs had got them.

“—with you, Julie.” Luke was speaking, Julie realized; she’d been too busy trying to think of a way to convince them to go to Caleb. No doubt he was saying something beautiful and poetic; his big puppy dog eyes were on full display. He was standing, barely, hobbling over to her. “No regrets.”

Then she was crying for real and hugging Luke, feeling the soft silk of his shirt, and where had he even gotten something that nice—

Wait. She could feel him. 

She pulled back, not letting go of Luke’s shoulders. He stared at her in disbelief. “I—I feel better.” 

Julie took a huge step back, holding Luke’s arm in a death grip as she dragged him towards Reggie. Luke practically engulfed him, and as they collapsed into each other, Julie could feel his ridiculous studded belt digging into her side. They both were _glowing,_ and Julie could practically feel them growing stronger. The boys stuck out their wrists, and Caleb’s stamps disappeared into the air as if they had never been there in the first place.

 _We played the Orpheum,_ she wanted to say, but it seemed so insignificant in comparison to the empty space next to her.

~

Julie ended up falling asleep in the garage.

The night before had been bittersweet. The fact that she could _touch_ Reggie and Luke was addicting. They’d piled like puppies on the couch after Reggie and Luke changed into sweats and flannels. Julie hadn’t asked about the fancy new clothes, but she’d pieced together from Luke and Reggie’s ramblings that Caleb had been the reason for their performance delay. She assumed they were some sort of twisted gift, given that the last time she’d seen them they’d been in their usual jeans and t-shirts. Still, Alex’s presence loomed over everything; when she rested her head on Reggie’s lap with Luke smashed beside her, she could almost feel him curled at her back. No one said anything, but Reggie started running his fingers through her hair, and eventually she drifted off to sleep. 

When she woke up, the guys were still there, talking quietly in the corner. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” Luke said, and her heart skipped a beat. His voice was hoarse, though, and his eyes were rimmed in red; she’d seen him at his parents long enough to recognize when he was really upset. Reggie looked similarly bad, and for the millionth time since the night before, she automatically looked to check on Alex.

If they noticed, they didn’t say anything. Instead, Reggie sat up, stretching a little. “We were thinking we should go try to find Willie,” Reggie said. “Tell him. . .well, you know.”

Willie. Right. She still hadn’t gotten the full story about him, other than Willie was a somewhat _unwilling_ employee of Caleb’s, and that there was a huge amount of _will they, won’t they_ tension between him and Alex. Or there had been, anyway.

She nodded and stood up. “That sounds smart,” she said. But before they could poof away, she threw herself at them. The boys reacted instantly, elbowing each other to be the first to pull her into a tight hug. 

She felt off balance as she walked back to the house, and it was because, she realized, it was the first time she hadn’t been touching any of— _either_ of the boys since the night before.

Inside, her dad was humming, making a complex-looking breakfast spread; everything from eggs to pancakes to cut fruit lined the table. He smiled at her, and Julie did her best to smile back, trying not to let on how little she felt like eating. “Morning, sleepy head.” He flipped an omelette. “I came to check on you last night; you were passed out in the studio. It looked uncomfortable, but I figured you could use the sleep.”

“Thanks dad,” she said. Still feeling adrift without the boys to anchor her, she leaned into her Dad’s side, giving him a tight hug. He squeezed her back, and she took a second to breath, comforted by the familiar scent of his cologne. “Go get your brother; breakfast is almost ready,” he said when she finally pulled away. “Thought we’d celebrate your big night.”

She walked up to Carlos’s room, pausing to smile in the doorway. He was bopping along to some song on his headphones, dancing erratically to a beat she couldn’t hear. He didn’t miss a beat when he turned around and saw her, taking his headphones off and asking, “so, how’re the Caspers?”

She’d forgotten, after Luke and Reggie and _Alex,_ after everything, Carlos’s comment from the night before. Of course he’d figured it out; Carlos, though it pained her as a big sister to admit it, was both incredibly smart and stubborn. Her first instinct was to lie, but she was a horrible liar, and the thought of another living person knowing her secret was comforting besides.

“How’d you figure it out?” she asked instead. “And you _cannot_ tell Dad. He’ll think I’ve gone crazy.”

“Uh, he definitely already thinks that,” Carlos said, jumping out of the way before Julie could smack him. “I found the CD in the garage,” Carlos said simply. “I knew it had to be old and from before we lived here, because, duh, it was a CD, so I googled the band. I figured it made sense after the orbs and whatever haunted Tia. Also, you get locked out of your phone like once a month. There’s no way you can manage a super sophisticated hologram technology.”

“Hey!” she said, offended.

He shrugged. “What? It’s true. So these three guys—”

“Two,” she corrected, feeling the levity of the moment flee as a lump rose in her throat. “Our drummer crossed over last night.”

Carlos stared, confused. “Crossed over?”  
  
“Went to heaven,” she clarified. She didn’t want to tell Carlos that more likely, Alex had been shocked out of existence. “He finished what he needed to do on Earth.”

“Maybe he’s with Mom,” Carlos said, and Julie was abruptly reminded of how young he was.

“Maybe.” Julie said. It was a nice thought. Alex and her Mom would have gotten along great; they would have made fun of Reggie and Luke together, and Mom would have bedazzled everything Alex owned. “I’m sure they’re up there having fun together.” 

~

The boys didn’t return for a while after breakfast, and she hoped they’d managed to find Willie and he was dealing with everything okay. When Reggie and Luke finally did resurface, popping into where she was lounging in the studio, they looked even more dejected than they had that morning. “We couldn’t find Willie,” Luke said, the disappointment evident on his face. “We looked everywhere, and watched the club forever. Caleb had to have known he helped us, so we don’t know. . .” Luke gestured helplessly, the implication clear: Willie had probably met the same fate Alex had. 

“No, Willie’s out there,” Reggie said emphatically. His knee was jiggling endlessly; without Alex, it seemed like he’d inherited the nervous energy of the group. “And Alex crossed over,” Reggie said. Julie tried not to notice the desperation in his voice. “I know he did. He didn’t just disappear. Not without us. He isn’t just. . .gone.” 

_Denial is typically the first symptom of working through grief,_ Julie heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dr. Turner’s say.

“Reg. . .” Luke started. 

“No!” Reggie interrupted. “Alex is watching over us from upstairs, waiting, and Willie is out there somewhere, and—” His voice cracked, and his eyes were growing dangerously shiny. “I’m going to look for Willie again,” he said, and disappeared before anyone else could say anything.

In the echoing silence, Luke collapsed next to Julie on the couch, burrowing his head in his hands. “Boy, we’re really in it now, huh, Molina?” 

Not knowing what to say, she rubbed a hand over his shuddering back. Flynn had done that a lot for Julie, in the early days, and it had always made Julie feel a little more grounded. “It’ll all be okay,” Julie said, hating herself for saying something she had no idea was true. 

~

Luke eventually stopped shaking long enough to say that he was going out; Julie knew without asking that Luke was going to see his parents. Alone again, she headed back to the house; Flynn was stuck at a family event all day, but Julie had been updating her with the latest throughout the day, and Flynn had promised a night of tears and ice cream soon. 

When she went inside, her Dad was sitting at the table, and Carlos was nowhere to be seen. The day was clearly continuing in all of its terrible glory. Julie wasn’t even sure what had merited this sit down as she sunk into the chair across from him. She hadn’t missed class, she hadn’t snuck out, and she was still in the music program. Unless Carlos had cracked and told her Dad about the ghost band less than twenty four hours in, Julie had been a picture perfect daughter of late.

The worry faded a little when, as soon as she sat down, her Dad obviously couldn’t keep the scowl up any longer and broke into a wide smile. “Hey, so I got a call earlier. An agent is interested in talking to you guys. What should I tell him?”

Julie didn’t meet his eyes. “Maybe in a few days. I’ll have to discuss it with the band.”

“Makes sense. Do you know where you’re gonna play next?”

She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to play this next part. “I’m not sure. I think we might hit pause for a little while.” She and the boys hadn’t talked about what they would do next, but she couldn’t imagine them being eager to start playing again anytime soon. The drum kit hung like an ugly specter in the corner of the garage, and all of them had been steadily avoiding them. Luke’s fight with his parents or death itself hadn’t been able to strip him of his love of music, but now he seemed paralyzed, and she didn’t see Reggie cheering up all of a sudden. None of their songs, whether they were written for Sunset Curve or Julie and the Phantoms, worked without a drummer to keep beat. 

Her dad had the look on his face that she hated; it was the _emotional check in_ face. He’d been wearing it less, the last few weeks, but Ray was incredibly aware of his children’s emotional states, and she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding her grief about Alex.

“Julie, if you . . .don’t want to do the band anymore, you know that’s okay, right? I’m glad that you’re able to play again, but don’t feel like you have to keep it up for me or your band or anyone else.”

Her heart hurt with how much she loved her Dad. She’d had a whole spiel ready to go to explain the boys crossing over. The technology was so touchy, the communication so complicated, that the band was going to go their separate ways and she’d be better off striking out alone. But she wasn’t quite sure how to categorize the weird situation they now found themselves in. “No, it’s not that,” she said. “I love the band; they’re the best thing that’s happened to me since Mom died. But. . .”

“But?” Her dad prompted. 

How could she be honest without being _too_ honest? Saying something closer to the complete truth—that Alex was gone, never coming back—would just invite more questions, and before she knew it, her dad would be on a flight to Sweden to save a boy who had died right down the street twenty five years ago. “Alex, our drummer,” she started. “He had to quit the band.”

“I’m sorry,” her Dad said, and he looked it, too; not just sad for Julie, but for a boy he’d never actually met. “Is he okay?”

“No,” Julie said, and then she scrambled. “He, uh. He told his parents he was gay, and they took his phone and made him drop the band. We don’t have a way to talk to him anymore.” Alex hadn’t told her many details about his family, but he’d let slip that his relationship with his parents had fallen apart after he’d come out. She figured he’d forgive her for using that as a cover to her Dad.

Ray frowned, and Julie was half afraid he’d end up on that plane trip anyway, this time to stage an international kidnapping. “That’s not right,” he said. “I don’t mean to criticize other people’s parenting, but. . .” He trailed off, the look of disgust on his face making it clear what he thought.

“Yeah, it sucks,” she agreed. 

He frowned. “Maybe something will work out. If it’s meant to be, he’ll come back to you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m not getting my hopes up.”

~

Neither Luke nor Reggie were in the loft by the time she turned into bed. She wasn’t too worried about them, though, even with Caleb lurking somewhere. Since whatever had happened after the Orpheum, she could feel Reggie and Luke, a silent presence beating beneath her breastbone. Her Mom had always said you could feel people you loved, and if she focused, she could almost feel Alex too, his spirit living on through her memory of him. She tossed and turned, though, unable to fall asleep. Even if they were physically okay, they were still suffering emotionally, and even though she’d only been able to touch them for a day, she missed feeling them beside her as she finally fell asleep. 

Her mood didn’t improve the next day. Julie nearly threw her alarm through the window when it rang shrilly at an ungodly hour, and when she checked the studio, Luke and Reggie still hadn’t returned. On the bus ride and all through her classes, everyone was swarming around her, congratulating her, and it was all she could do to act normal and not burst into tears. Flynn was still away with her family, and as much Julie missed and needed her, there was no way she could pretend to be a normal, stable person once Flynn offered her a hug.

In some ways, her current scenario was better than when her mom had died. Sure, she was keeping like fifty major secrets from the rest of the school while taking selfies and signing autographs, but at least no one was staring at her like she’d shatter if they breathed the wrong way.

At one point, she spotted Nick at the opposite end of the hallway. Julie _calmly_ walked in the other direction, definitely not sprinting in crazy panic. She ducked out the side door into the courtyard, taking a deep breath of the cool air. There was someone on the other side—a theater sub, no doubt, judging by his ridiculous purple coat—but he vanished quickly into the door on the opposite way, leaving Julie to have a small breakdown in peace.

With everything that had happened in the last two days, she’d forgotten about Nick’s apparent crush. Having to interact with him after she’d shot him down was the last thing she wanted to do, and she hadn’t even thought about the implications for her feelings for Luke now that she could _touch_ him.

She firmly shut that line of thinking down, to be gently prodded at once she was alone with Flynn and some Ben and Jerry’s. She marched back into school, determined to grin and bear the rest of the day.

By the time she made it home, Julie could feel exhaustion down to her bones. Still, she bypassed the house and immediately headed into the studio, hoping the boys were back. She was so out of it that she was already collapsing on the couch, epic verbal smackdown on the tip of her tongue, when she realized that the boy standing awkwardly in the corner of the studio _wasn’t_ Luke or Reggie. Julie froze, wondering if she could reach her mic in time; it was heavy enough to hit someone over the head with. “Who are you?” 

God help her after everything they’d been through, she got killed in a robbery over her beat up keyboard and a limited edition Funko. 

The boy’s eyes widened. He was cute in a grungy, surfer boy kind of way, some distant part of Julie’s brain noticed, and that sent off sirens ringing. The _last_ time cute boys had appeared out of nowhere in the studio—

“You can see me?” he asked, eyes widening.

“. . .yeah?” She answered cautiously, hating the feeling of not what was going on.

“I’m Willie,” he said.

“I don’t know who you—” She paused. Willie. Willie, who Luke and Reggie were convinced had been killed by Caleb. Alex’s _“friend”_ Willie. Willie, who had risked his afterlife for a shot at Alex crossing over. 

Oh no. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter! I haven't had a chance to reply, but I've read each one like three times. 
> 
> Again, please note the updated tags. Even though we're early in the story, I think this will end up being one of the hardest chapters to write. I have SO many feelings about Willie, that this chapter could have been a story by itself. I've added the unreliable narrator tag because it's my view that Willie is much harder on himself than he deserves, and Caleb knows just how to manipulate that. But don't worry; next chapter we pick up where we left off with Julie, and Willie will get some much needed comfort and reassurance.

For a long time, Willie floated.

He figured out later, when he’d become a little more aware of things going on around him, that it had been 2006 when he’d di—when he’d been kil—when he’d been forcibly relocated. But in the ten minutes it had taken him to stumble away from ( _red and blue lights flashing; a woman screaming; his body crumpled and torn underneath the Subaru’s front tire)_. . .the accident and make it to a quiet street a few blocks away, he looked up to see people tapping their iPods, the scroll wheel seemingly disappeared, and yelling into them as if they were talking on a phone.

Willie, thinking about his father’s enduring habit of reading the newspaper every morning, found a box selling the _Times._ The date said 2011.

Willie lost more time, after that.

It was 2018, maybe, when Willie stumbled out of his haze long enough to realize he’d run _into_ someone, rather than straight through. A handsome man, middle aged, probably, dressed in some sort of dramatic velvet purple coat that looked like it had come straight from Broadway. 

“William,” the man said. His smile was wide and blinding. For the first time since he’d become a ghost, Willie felt safe. “My name is Caleb Covington. I can help you, if you let me.”

~

“The one in the middle.”

Shonda, smiling innocently, tipped the right cup up. The marble was, once again, sitting under the last one Willie had picked. “Gosh darn it mother _ducker,”_ he swore. “Double or nothing?”

“You know,” Shonda said, resetting the shell game, “when you talk like that, it almost makes me feel bad for beating you so hard. But I need next Friday off, _so.”_ HGC staff members didn’t barter for something as trivial as money. They traded shifts: if you won, you didn’t have to work, and you also didn’t have to forfeit the spectral energy it took to power the club when the Lifers were there. There was a one day only half pipe being set up in the Grand Canyon; there was no way Willie would have the energy to go if he had to work his shift the night before. 

Shonda’s hands moved so fast they were practically a blur, but when she stopped and leaned back, the smug smile fell off her face. Willie, feeling the hair stand on the back of his neck, leaned back to see Dmitri leaning over them. 

“Mr. Covington would like to see you,” Dmitri said with his usual lack of enthusiasm. He was so weird and creepy; Willie had no idea how someone as friendly and warm as Caleb put up with having Dmitri as an assistant.

“For what?” Shonda asked. There was an edge to her voice; Willie didn’t have an older sibling when he’d been alive, but Shonda had told him several times about her little brother. 

“He would like to see you now,” Dmitri replied, and then was off, expectation for Willie to follow clear.

“He probably just wants to talk to you about your weird socks,” Shonda said, but Willie could hear the uneasiness in her voice.

“These socks are great,” Willie corrected her, yelling over his shoulder as he chased Dmitri. “They have _Pikachu_ on them.”

Caleb was in his dressing room, fiddling with his hair for the night’s show. He looked up, smiling warmly, and stood, clapping Willie on the shoulder. “Ah, William! Just the man I was looking for.”

“Hi Caleb,” Willie said, trying to act cool. Even though Caleb had never been anything but nice to Willie, he was always a little intimidated by Caleb and his effortless confidence, how easily he charmed people. “Dmitri said you wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” Caleb said, still holding onto his shoulder. “I’ve gotten news that there are some new lost souls out there. I was thinking maybe you could talk to them, help shepherd them in.”

“Me?” Willie said, a little surprised. Caleb rarely asked for help in recruitment. The pitch on paper didn’t sound that great: an eternity renting out your soul to power the very nightclub you had to work as in. But when Caleb explained the offer, it made sense. Caleb had no plans to do anything _major_ with anyone’s soul, he’d said the day he’d offered Willie a refuge from eternal loneliness, but the power it took to keep the club running and visible to Lifers was more than Caleb could provide by himself. In return, the employees got a family, and to enjoy their free time however they wanted, and to keep their tether to the world. Put that way, it was hard to say no. Willie certainly hadn’t been able to.

“You,” Caleb reassured. “They’re about your age, and I think you’ll be able to relate to them better than a stuffy old codger like me. There’s one boy in particular I think you’ll like; I’d like you to start with him.”

“Okay,” Willie trailed off uncertainly. “How will I find him?” 

“I’ve already got a line on him.” Caleb squeezed a little harder, and the place in Willie’s chest where he could always distantly feel Caleb’s hold on him was suddenly blazing hot. Willie gasped, still standing only from the firm grip Caleb had on him, but just as quickly the pain vanished. He mentally poked the spot, and he could feel not just Caleb, but another presence, faint but steady. 

“Sorry about the discomfort,” Caleb said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I figure it’s best if you don’t know it’s coming. But you should be able to find him fairly easily, now.”

“Yeah, okay, Caleb,” Willie said, still shaking a little. He knew Caleb didn’t mean any harm, but he still wanted to be anywhere but here. “I’m going to go get changed into my uniform.”

“Of course. Have a good shift. And William?” Willie turned around. In the low light, Caleb looked more powerful than ever. “Don’t let me down.”

~

Maybe literally running over the guy wasn’t the best way to get new recruits, but hey, Willie usually approached most things in afterlife head on. It wasn’t until Willie was standing, hoping it wouldn’t be too hard to fix his board, when he got a glimpse of the boy.

Huh.

He was cute.

Caleb hadn’t mentioned that. 

And angry about being knocked down, although anger quickly faded to shock as the boy, _Alex,_ realized he was talking to another not-living and not-breathing human being. They bantered a little, and when Alex confessed they’d died from _bad hotdogs,_ Willie wanted to say something, anything, to take that sheepish look off his face. “That’s how. . .” Okay, who was the coolest musician he could think of? “Mozart died.” Mozart? _Mozart?_

Alex turned out to be really funny, too, and when he confessed he had no idea who Justin Bieber was, Willie wanted to ditch his shift and spend the rest of the day catching him up on the last twenty years of music. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time; since he’d been alive, really, and Erica Jeffreys had slid a valentine to him freshman year of high school. A love afterlife wasn’t something Willie had considered, but maybe, once Alex had joined the club. . . 

Willie was really, _really_ glad he’d met Alex.

He didn’t introduce the idea of Caleb when they hung out next; he was too focused on the wonder on Alex’s face as they broke into a mansion to see Dave Grohl’s drum set. He didn’t bring it up the next time either, when Alex was trying and failing to teach him the basics of reading music, or the next time, when they were holding hands and screaming in a museum. He was easing Alex into the idea, Willie told himself; Alex would probably die a second death of anxiety if Willie overwhelmed him with the sheer possibilities of the HGC too quickly. 

Caleb found him after curtain call that night, when all Willie wanted to do was lie down and rest for like a week. “William, how are the new recruits?”

“Um, I’m still working on it,” Willie said. He should have been prepared for this conversation. “I haven’t met the others yet, just Alex.”

“Try to hurry it along,” Caleb said.

And then Alex showed up with his band, wanting to talk to a Lifer, and Willie’s time with Alex alone was up.

~

When Willie finally stopped that night to take a breather after joining the rest of the dancers, he immediately sought out Alex. Maybe Alex had been watching and was impressed, that even though Alex had declared Willie had the rhythm of an epileptic dog the one time Alex had let him near his drum kit, Willie was actually a pretty good dancer. Only when he finally spotted Alex, he was in the arms of Dante and Fuego, being spun around on the dance floor. 

“Wow, someone ate a lemon,” Shonda said, sidling up next to him and offering him a bottle of water. 

“What?” 

“ _Please,”_ Shonda rolled her eyes. “They can see your crush in space.”

“I don’t know—” 

“The Lifers are gonna leave, and they’re gonna say, ‘what’s that I still see? Oh, it’s Willie’s giant heart eyes for the piano kid.’”

“He plays the _drums,_ ” Willie corrected angrily. 

Shonda started cackling. “You’re too easy.” 

Willie was a little distracted after that. He wouldn’t say he was sulking, necessarily, as Alex had fun with seemingly everyone but him, but other, less kind people, might use the word moping. When he finally tuned back in, he realized it was _much_ later than the Phantoms had said they’d needed to leave. He looked around for them; they were already at the exit, clearly panicking about their gig. Caleb was shaking their hands, and there was a brief puff of smoke, and—

Oh no. Goddamnit. Fuck. No. 

Willie wasn’t stupid. He knew what Caleb’s stamp did to people. But Willie had only seen him use it twice, both in cases when the ghosts had been out of control. It’d been terrifying, but Willie had trusted Caleb when he’d said the ghosts would have hurt them, would have exposed the club, would have ruined everything. 

Alex and his friends. . .weren’t dangerous, right?

He felt nauseous as he stumbled over to Caleb. “Um, Caleb,” he started, “you never said you were gonna use your stamp. You know what that’ll do to them.”

“Of course I do William. But they’re too powerful. I need them working for me. Now they’ll have no option but to accept my invitation.” Caleb strolled off, cupping Willie’s cheek as he went, and the weight of Caleb’s ownership of his soul burned in Willie’s chest. 

_They’re too powerful._ Sure they were powerful, but Alex and his friends’ biggest goal was to play as a band. That wasn’t a particularly alarming threat. Really, the only problem they posed was to Caleb’s bottom line. 

Surely that wasn’t what Caleb was worried about. There had to be some lurking danger in Alex that Willie was too blind to see. Caleb knew what he was doing. 

Willie tossed and turned in the penthouse hotel suite he’d picked to crash in that night. Ghosts didn’t sleep per se, but they tended to zone out mentally at night to keep a little of their sanity intact. Willie had never had a problem before, but tonight his head was spinning. Was Alex awake too right now? Was he in pain? Had the stamp already started to erase him?

Willie wasn’t proud of it, but he spent the next skulking around the boys. He’d picked up a lot of tricks from the HGC; if Willie didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. He lost his concentration, though, when he watched the jolts ripple through the boys. Willie ignored the voice in his head that maybe he wanted to be seen. If that had been his real motive, then he wouldn’t have bolted away on his skateboard the second Alex looked like he was about to come outside. 

He ran straight into Caleb.

Willie could hear himself sputtering excuses as Caleb looked at him expectantly, and Caleb mercifully took over. “Checking on the boys for me? How _is_ my band doing?”

“They’re flickering, just like you wanted them too.” He tried to smile, a little, and show Caleb that his faith and belief in Caleb was still one hundred percent rock solid.

“Wonderful.” Caleb paused, and turned back around. “Oh, and William. The next time you want to check on the boys for me, let me know.” 

Willie felt ice in his gut. “Yeah. Yeah. My bad.”

“You do love skating the streets of Hollywood. Would hate to have to take that away from you.”

He skated away as fast as he could, mind spinning. When he’d first met Caleb, he hadn’t questioned any of Caleb’s intentions: why he needed to own Willie’s soul, why he took Willie and the other ghosts energy to keep the club running, why the “family” of the Hollywood Ghost Club looked so tense any time Caleb was around. 

Caleb had suckered him, and Willie had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. How could he have been so blind?

What might have been hours, _days,_ later he stopped, feeling slightly panicked. He hadn’t lost time like that in a long time. Needing to ground himself, Willie gently felt for the tracker that Caleb had placed that tied to him to Alex. He could feel Alex’s presence, steady and content and reassuring, and Willie breathed a sigh of relief. The boys were still safe, for now, it seemed, but Caleb’s threat or not, he needed to see for himself.

~

He sat on the beach for a while, _we never should have met_ ringing endlessly in his ears. 

He’d said it for what—to protect Alex? No, Willie couldn’t even convince himself of that lie. The stamps were going to do their work with or without Willie’s intervention. Maybe he’d done it so Alex would finally understand what a bad person Willie was. That way, when Alex and his band mates inevitably joined the club, Willie wouldn’t have to pretend like it wasn’t his actions that had led them there.

Caleb had tricked Willie, and now Willie had tricked Alex. Circle of afterlife.

He couldn’t remember being so angry before. Willie knew he wasn’t a great person—he was cowardly, and passive aggressive, and didn’t think things through—but he’d always considered himself a nice person. But now he wanted Caleb to _hurt,_ like Willie was hurting, like Luke and Reggie were hurting, like _Alex_ was hurting. 

Alex, who even though he’d only been in Willie’s life for a short time, had helped Willie realize he was living a lie. And Willie had repaid him by drawing him right into the same trap.

If the boys could cross over before Caleb’s stamp took effect, though. . .

Maybe there was a way to for him to earn Alex’s forgiveness, save him and the others, and screw Caleb in the process. It probably wouldn’t end well for Willie, but he owed Alex.

He checked his watch—the family heirloom his Dad had given him for his 16th birthday. The only thing he held onto from his time as a Lifer. 

The Phantom’s garage show had to be over by now, right?

~

When Dmitri showed up and forcibly drug Willie back to the club, he focused on three things:

  1. The feel of Alex in his arms;
  2. The joyous approval of Luke and Reggie;
  3. _I would have still followed you._



He kept that last image in mind as Caleb entered the dressing room; the same place they’d been when this had all started. He looked so calm, so _normal,_ and that made Willie more scared than if Caleb had stormed in. The idea of dying a second time didn’t really scare Willie. But what Caleb could do while he owned Willie’s soul?That was a different story.

“Willie, tell me where I went wrong,” Caleb said. He took a slow sip of his martini, and _how_ had Willie not realized he was working for a Bond villain? “I took you under my wing, sheltered you, taught you all those fancy tricks that you like to show off.” 

“You lied to me,” Willie said. At the end of the day, that was what it came down to. 

“Oh, please.” Caleb rolled his eyes. “I never lied about anything. You were just so naive and desperate not to be alone you didn’t question anything.”

Willie tried to come up with a response to convince both himself and Caleb that wasn’t true, but before he could say anything, Caleb put his glass down with a quiet clink. “It’s no matter, though. You’ll be taken care of soon enough. But first!” Caleb smiled, looking almost excited. “We have a very special show tonight, William, and I think you’ll appreciate it.”

Caleb snapped his fingers, and Willie was jolted to a seat in the back of the club. All around him, the Lifers were murmuring excitedly, waiting for the show to begin, as the wait staff attended to their every need. He saw several familiar faces through the crowd, but no one would make eye contact with him; news of his fall from grace had clearly gotten out. Marcus was up on stage getting the crowd warmed up. The girls in the band were already on stage, but Annette, who usually played the drums, was nowhere to be seen. An ugly feeling rose in Willie’s gut, and as the audience cheered noisily, Caleb walked out like he hadn’t a care in the world.

The song that started wasn’t one Willie was familiar with, and Willie had been around long enough that he knew all the usual acts. But what was more unusual was that Caleb didn’t seem entirely focused on the crowd like he usually was; it almost seemed like he was singing to someone offstage rather than his sycophants in the audience. 

Then the chorus hit, Caleb trilling _you got nothing to lose, boys,_ and Willie knew exactly what was about to happen.

The showgirls closed their fans around Caleb, and when they pulled them back, Alex was at the drums. 

When it still had been just the two of them, before Willie had met Luke and Reggie and handed them all to Caleb on a silver platter, Alex had walked him through a few basic rhythms. But Willie had never gotten to truly see Alex in his element. Even with his movements jerky, fighting against Caleb’s hold, and face covered with fear, Alex was clearly a pro. Caleb could control people’s movements, sure, but he couldn’t force skill. Willie hated that the first and possibly last time he’d get to see Alex play, it was with Caleb egging on him. 

Luke and Reggie were also on stage, Willie belatedly realized. Caleb did a complicated routine with Luke, and Willie could hear the elaborate drum sequence under the heavy bass as the song ended. The audience gave a standing ovation, either unaware of how terrified and frozen the boys looked, or simply not caring. Caleb was eating it up, bowing and smiling, and the boys were panting, wide eyed.

And then Alex disappeared.

Willie saw him vanish right away, but it took Caleb, still soaking in the applause, a few seconds to notice the empty kit. A brief look of surprise crossed his face before it was covered by his showman’s mask, and in that brief second, Reggie flickered out as well. Luke was flashing a little, Caleb’s hold obviously fighting whatever was happening, but after a few seconds he was gone too.

Had the stamp won out even as Caleb had been actively trying to recruit them? Had everything Willie done been pointless? 

No, they had to be with Julie, Willie reasoned. And either way, he’d prevented Caleb from getting them. It was a win.

Caleb continued on with the show; to an outsider, it surely seemed like the plan had always been for the boys to play the one song, but Willie could see the cracks in his facade. When Caleb left the house band to entertain the guests, snapping his fingers at Willie as he went, Willie prepared himself for what was to come as he was transported to the back room. Unlike before, this time, Caleb was angry. Caleb wasn’t used to things not going his way. 

Caleb took a long drink of water while staring thoughtfully at Willie. “Now, how should I deal with you?” Caleb mused aloud, taking a step closer. “I’ve had a bad night, and it’s been _so_ long since I’ve gotten to mutilate someone. I’ve forgotten how relaxing it can be.”

_I would have still followed you,_ Willie repeated to himself. He’d saved Alex and his friends from Caleb. Whatever happened to him would be worth it. 

“Boss,” Dmitri said, appearing in the door. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Caleb waved him away, his gaze not wavering from Willie. “Not now, Dmitri. I’m taking care of some long overdue trash.”

“Trust me boss,” Dmitri said. “You’ll want to take this meeting.”

Caleb sighed, rolling his eyes. “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. _Fine_.” Caleb gestured loosely at Willie. “Watch him.” Caleb stormed out.

The second Caleb left, Willie turned to Dmitri. “Dmitri, _please,_ ” he begged. Willie didn’t regret what he’d done for a second, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try to get out of his current situation if he could. “You know what Caleb is going to do is wrong.” 

“Sorry, kid.” And the thing was, Dmitri actually looked it. “Can’t piss off the boss.”

The wait was tortuous. Dmitri was humming quietly the song from before, but it was otherwise quiet, none of the noise from the club filtering in through the thick, sound-proofed dressing room. Left alone, Willie did something he rarely indulged in, and thought about his life. He wondered how his parents were doing. He’d never been to see them since he’d died; he’d been too afraid.Seeing their grief would mean Willie was _really_ dead, and Willie wasn’t sure he’d be able to come back from that. But now, all he wanted to see his parents one last time, have one last late night conversation over tea with his Dad. 

Caleb returned, silent in a way he rarely was, and Dmitri slipped out the door, giving one last sympathetic glance to Willie. Caleb walked up and reached out, cupping Willie on the cheek. It was disturbingly tender, and Willie winced, bracing himself.

Something inside of him shifted, and instead of pain, Willie felt _whole_ in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. Since. . .Caleb had taken his soul, actually. Had Caleb returned it?

“I don’t have time to deal with you, but if I ever see you again, you’ll wish for death. Be glad I’m not ending your pathetic life,” Caleb sneered, snapping his fingers. “Get out of my sight.” 

Willie blinked and found that Caleb had sent him to an alley a few blocks from the club, Lifers passed through him without a care, eager to get on with their night, unaware that Willie’s afterlife had just been turned upside down. He stood up shakily, trying to figure out what, exactly, Caleb had done, and why he’d been so suddenly merciful. For the first time he’d officially joined the Hollywood Ghost Club, Willie couldn’t feel Caleb’s hold on him. It was exhilarating. It was liberating _._

It also felt incredibly lonely.

Even if Willie was his own ghost again, Caleb had apparently forgotten to remove the tether tying him to Alex. For a second, Willie contemplated prodding it just to feel _something._ But the thought of feeling it closed off from Alex crossing over, or worse, brutally ripped away as the stamp finished off, was too much to handle. So instead Willie did what he always did: headed forward alone. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments! I had some free time with the long weekend, so I was able to finish this chapter a little more quickly.

_ Julie knew right away that she was dreaming. _

_ She was in a grand club, dressed in a shimmering gown that would have made Daisy Buchanan salivate. The lights were warm and low, a jazz band playing softly in the background. Jazz wasn’t normally something she listened to, but after the dream she’d had where she’d turned into a unicorn, that fact seemed unremarkable.  _

_ She wandered around, ignoring the fancy stage calling like a siren song, and instead headed toward a familiar figure dancing alone amongst the faceless crowd spinning around them. The woman turned around, smiling, and pulled Julie in for a dance. _

_ “I love you so much,” Mom said. She looked radiant and beautiful like in Julie’s best memories, and not like the sickly, emaciated screaming thing she’d been at the end. It wasn’t the first time Julie had had a version of this dream, but those words still made her want to cry every time she heard them.  _

_ “I miss you,” Julie said. _

_ “I’m never really gone, mija,” Mom said, cupping her face. “I’m always with you.” She hummed lightly to the music, and because Julie’s dreams were nothing if not on the nose, Julie recognized the opening chords of  _ Dream a Little Dream of Me.  _ Julie rested her head on her Mom’s shoulder, inhaling the jasmine scent of her perfume, as they swayed.  _

_ After a moment, Julie pulled back. “Carlos hit a home run—” she started, eager to talk to her Mom however she could, but then stopped. The dream had started to crumble into something unrecognizable, the music falling out of tune as the club grew colder. Her Mother’s face was transforming, growing pale and sickly like she’d been before she’d died. But then the shift continued, Rose’s jaw growing sharper and hair blonder, until it was some horrible blend of her dying mother and Alex looking back at her. “I’m still here, Julie,” the body before her said with Alex’s voice, fast and desperate. “I’m still—” _

Julie shot up, gasping for air. She was covered in sweat, and the sounds of the crickets from her open bedroom window were the only thing that told her she was safe in her room. She’d had nightmares a lot when her Mom had first died and Julie hadn’t been able to find which way was up; they’d faded after a while, the shock fading into a dull, ever persistent grief. She’d thought they were done entirely, but with Alex gone—

She shut her eyes and slid out of bed, firmly pushing that thought away. She didn’t have time to have a massive breakdown right now. 

She could feel exhaustion tugging at her like a small child as she padded quietly down the stairs for a drink of water. She hadn’t been asleep long before the nightmare, having spent the night tossing and turning, Willie’s face in technicolor every time she closed her eyes. Luke and Reggie had appeared not long after she had found Willie in the studio, and she’d watched every flicker of emotion on his face as he’d gone from realizing Reggie and Luke were alive to noticing who  _ wasn’t  _ there. Willie had taken one look at the sorrow on their faces and vanished just as quickly and quietly as he’d appeared.

Reggie sighed. “Of course Julie finds Willie after we’ve been looking everywhere for him. You could see him?”

“Yeah,” Julie said. “We’d just established that fact when you guys came in.” She hesitated. She wanted to see the boys, but— “Go after him,” she waved. “Make sure he’s okay.” 

Luke hesitated. “Caleb could know Willie’s here—” 

She shook her head. “I’ll be okay. It’s what Alex would want.” 

Luke winced, but he didn’t argue.

They’d disappeared, and she had been alone. Now, it was five in the morning, and slipped outside to sit down on the front porch of the house, the cool air helping erase the memory of the nightmare. Her mother had always been an early riser, and Julie had spent countless mornings out here, sleepily watching the sun rise with her head in her Mom’s lap, Mom singing softly and running her hand across Julie’s arm. 

She felt a faint  _ whoosh  _ as she settled on the porch, jumping a little as she clutched her glass of water to keep it from spilling. “Couldn’t sleep?” Luke asked, or maybe it was a statement; he looked as tired and wan as she felt. He immediately slid closer so his arm pressed against hers; she wondered, half terrified, if ghosts could smell morning breath. The brush of fabric against her bare arm caught her by surprise; she turned and saw him looking sheepishly, drowning in Alex’s pink hoodie.

“I dreamt about my Mom. We were dancing.” She waited a beat, then added, “and Alex.”

Luke fiddled with the sleeves hanging over his hands. “It doesn’t even feel like he’s gone, you know? Like, I swear to god I can still hear his voice sometimes.” Luke stared out into the street. “I feel like I’m going crazy, Jules. I just—I  _ blinked _ and he was gone, and I don’t think my brain has fully caught up with that fact. Was it. . .” Luke paused. “Was it like that with your mom?”

Julie paused too, trying to give the question the weight it deserved. “Not totally. She was sick for a while, so as painful as it was to lose her, I had a little bit of time to adjust to the idea that I was going to wake up one morning and she wouldn’t be there. But I get what you mean, with Alex. I touched his kit yesterday, and it was like he was right there next to me, yelling.”

“He’s so touchy about it,” Luke said. Julie didn’t correct him on his use of present tense. “‘Don’t draw on the bass drum Luke! Don’t rearrange the snare, Luke! Don’t wear the hat as a hat Luke!”

She laughed, and leaned into him until her head was resting on her shoulder. There was no scent, either from Alex’s well worn hoodie or Luke himself, and Julie was abruptly reminded that even though she could touch him, Luke still wasn’t quite human. 

“I don’t want to write,” Luke finally said. It sounded like he was confessing to murder, and for Luke, Julie supposed, he kind of was. “Alex couldn’t write for shit, but he was always good with melodies and tempo, that kind of thing. He was a natural born dummer, I guess.”

“He would have wanted you to keep going,” Julie said, hating herself a little the moment it came out. It was  _ true,  _ Alex wouldn’t want them wallowing in misery (well, maybe a  _ little. _ Just to be polite.), but how many times had people said the exact same thing to her about her Mom? 

She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost missed Luke’s next question. “If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what’s the one thing you would do today?”

She pulled off of his shoulder and shrugged, caught a little off guard at the non-sequitur. “I don’t know. Spend some time with my Dad and Carlos, I guess. And Flynn and you and Reggie. What about you?”

“Play a sold out arena,” Luke said a little too quickly. He was blushing furiously, but Julie didn’t call him out on what was obviously a lie. The real answer was probably something along the lines of hanging out with his parents, but that would be too embarrassing for the effortlessly cool Luke Patterson to admit. Instead, she changed the subject, giving him some mercy. “Did you find Willie?”

“Yeah. He’s. . .pretty upset, obviously. We told him it was okay if he stayed with me and Reg for a little bit; is that alright?”

“Yeah,” she said. What was one more homeless teenage ghost boy? “But won’t Caleb be looking for him?” They seemed safe, for now, but as Tia always said, they shouldn’t be inviting trouble.

Luke bit his lip. “Caleb. . .kicked him out, apparently? He knew Willie was helping us.”

“But he still owns his soul?”

“No, apparently when he kicked him out, he  _ kicked him out,”  _ Luke’s arm pinwheeled in demonstration, “left with a box full of office supplies and his soul and everything.”

“Weird. From everything you’ve told me, he doesn’t seem like a merciful guy.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Luke said, shrugging. “We should keep our guard up, but I trust Willie when he says he’s safe.”

“Okay,” Julie said, and nestled her head back into Luke’s shoulder. For now, she was content to watch the sunrise with him and pretend everything was normal.

~

When the sun was peeking over the horizon, she left Luke to get dressed for school. When she finished, slipping on a pink necklace because and only because it matched with her outfit, she headed back out of the house into the studio. Luke and Reggie were on either end of the couch, half-heartedly watching something on the laptop they’d procured from somewhere Julie didn’t want to know about. Somehow, Reggie was now wearing Alex’s hoodie, and Willie was sandwiched between them. She took a minute to observe him. Like Reggie and Luke, he looked tired; there were bags under his eyes, and his lip was bitten from chewing on it. He was bouncing a little, as if the weight of Luke and Reggie beside him was the only thing keeping him down on the couch. He was also incredibly handsome; just by looking at him, she could understand why Alex had been head over heels after only a few days. 

Not that she would know anything about falling hard for someone in such a short time.

“Hi, I’m Julie,” she said, waving at him. “We didn’t really get to be properly introduced last time.”

“Hi,” he said, waving back. His voice was quieter than she expected, given all the stories she’d heard about his daredevil antics, but she supposed that made sense, given the current mood. “Thanks for letting me stay here.” 

“No problem,” she said earnestly. “Let me know if you need anything.”

At that, Reggie sprung up, a little of his usual energy back. “Actually, we were wondering if you could touch Willie like you can us. How strong are your Force abilities?”

“That’s a Star Trek thing, right?” she asked, ignoring Reggie’s grunt of offense. She took a step closer, nervous. It felt weirdly personal to hold her hand out to Willie, and he looked similarly intimidated. But he reached forward anyway, hand stopping just before hers.

She swallowed and pushed forward. Her hand sunk straight through Willie’s and into his chest, the cold feeling of passing through him sending shivers up her spine.

Julie yanked her hand back. “I am  _ so  _ sorry,” she babbled. “I feel like I just did the ghost equivalent of pulling your pants down or something.”

Willie laughed, but she could still see the sorrow in his eyes “It’s okay. I ran Alex over the first time we met, so this isn’t the most awkward meeting I’ve even had this month.” 

Had it really only been a few weeks since the boys had entered her life? It felt like so much longer.

That thought kept her occupied until she got to school, where she was immediately tackled in a screeching hug. Flynn pulled back laughing as Julie swatted at her, but once Flynn looked her in the eyes, her face fell. Flynn hugged her again, this time for real, and thank  _ God  _ Flynn was finally back. Julie wasn’t sure how much longer her sanity would have lasted with Flynn being on her family trip. “I’m sorry,” Flynn said when she finally let go. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. But I’d rather not talk about it at school. Come over tonight? Dad and Carlos will be out, so we’ll have the house to ourselves.”   
  
“Got it.” Flynn booped her on the nose. “Tell the ghosties to clear out too; you and I have a date with some hot studs named Ben and Jerry.”

The day passed as the one before it largely had: avoiding Nick, trying not to have a complete breakdown in the halls, taking selfies with people she’d never spoken to before. She even saw the weird drama sub, this time complete with top hat. Carrie, strangely, had been completely quiet. Not that she and Julie ever interacted much since their falling out, but Julie had expected plenty of underhanded barbs about the Orpheum show. Instead she was quiet, seemingly subdued somehow.

When Julie headed home, arm in arm with Flynn, her dad was on his way out. “Your brother’s at Victoria’s,” he said, “and I just need to find my—”

“Hall closet,” Julie finished, already knowing which jacket he would be looking for. 

“Where’s he off to in such a hurry?” Flynn asked as Julie’s Dad hurried out the door, jacket inside out. 

“Poker night,” Julie explained. “A bunch of the older neighborhood dads adopted him into the group when we moved here when I was a baby. He’s only been back a few times since Mom died, but I think it’s good for him; a few of the guys in the group have lost people too. And oh, I don’t think I told you: Carlos is at Tia’s because she refuses to babysit here anymore. She says she saw a  _ ghost.”  _

Flynn laughed. “Seriously? Do I want to know?”   
  
“Apparently Reggie was on a crusade sticking up for Carlos. Weirdly sweet, actually.”

Julie took a minute to check on the guys and let them know they were banished to the garage for the night; Reggie was out exploring, and Luke and Willie were engaged in an intense looking game of Candyland, so Julie returned to Flynn with a clean conscience. They changed into sweats and watched a few episodes of Avatar before Flynn paused Netflix. “So, do you actually want to talk about it? Or do you want me to rant about how much I hate Mrs. Peters’ class and pretend like nothing is wrong.”

Julie sighed. “An agent has been calling Dad,” is what she started with. “And I don’t know how to tell Luke and Reggie about it.”

Flynn nodded, rubbing Julie’s arm. “Well just because an agent’s interested, doesn’t mean you have to do anything right? You guys can talk to him, well  _ you  _ can talk to him, and hear his offer without agreeing to anything.”

“Yeah,” Julie said. Flynn waited. “It’s just. . . this is what we’ve been working towards since the moment we formed the band, you know? I should be screaming with joy. But without Alex. . .it just seems. . .”

“Pyrrhic?” Flynn asked. “What? I pay attention in history.”

“Yeah,” Julie said. “It’s hollow. Before we got the stamps off, when I thought Luke and Reggie were going to—Luke said something about how it wasn’t worth it for them to join Caleb’s club because music didn’t matter if we weren’t making it together. And he was right.”   
  
“Okay, first of all, that’s some Romeo and Juliet level romance,” Flynn teased. “And second, you guys don’t have to do anything, you know? But you should decide that together.”

“You’re right,” Julie said. She owed it to Alex, to Luke and Reggie, to tell them about the agent. It wasn’t fair to keep that a secret.

“Of course I am,” Flynn agreed. “Just as long as you don’t get kicked out of the music program again. I can’t handle making fun of Carrie alone.”

~

Julie once again found herself unable to sleep, so after Flynn tipped over in the middle of  _ Little,  _ Julie covered her up with a blanket and headed out to the studio. Carlos was spending the night with Tia, and her Dad was still at poker, but she was still quiet as she padded into the darkened studio, as if being loud would break some magical spell. It did feel like a spell that drew her to the drum kit forgotten in the corner. She ran a finger over the cymbal, hearing it ring faintly as an echo. It was almost like Alex was talking with it, a desperate  _ Julie, Julie  _ that made her yank her hand back.

“They’re kind of intimidating up close, huh?”

She turned around and saw Willie standing in the door. He gave her a half hearted wave. 

“Yeah,” she said, taking a step toward him and away from the oddly foreboding drums. “He would never let us get near them during practice. Something about Reggie and a coat hanger in ‘93?”

Willie chuckled, but it died off as he shifted awkwardly. “Where’d Luke go?” she asked, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.

“To his parents.” Willie swallowed. “Are you really okay with me staying here? I know after everything I did. . .”

“Willie, hey,” she said, holding up a hand and wishing desperately she could touch him. “It’s okay. From what I understand, you didn’t know what Caleb would do, and even if you had, you risked your life to help the guys.” 

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts,” she cut him off. “We’re glad you’re here, and we’re glad you’re safe. You were important to Alex, so you’re important to me and the guys, alright?”

He smiled, and for the first time since Julie had met him it seemed genuine. “Alright.”

~

The week crawled slowly by, Julie trying and failing to find a good time to tell the guys there was professional interest in the Phantoms. None of them seemed to ever be around at the same time, but thankfully Julie’s Dad wasn’t pushing the matter besides checking in occasionally. After their talk in the garage, Willie had seemed to come out of his shell a little; he seemed to be making fast friends with Reggie, and she’d walked in on more than one wrestling match between Willie and Luke.

It was Friday, almost a week since they’d played the Orpheum, when Reggie met her on her way home from school. She jumped, about to chew him out for startling her, and then she noticed how tired he looked. They’d all been dragging since the concert, but Reggie seemed worse than usual; flannel buttoned up incorrectly and his hair not slicked back in its usual pomade. “Hey Jules, can you do me a favor?” he asked, looking more serious than she’d ever seen him. 

She nodded, gesturing for him to continue. He took a deep breath and said, “Alex’s grave is a little. . .sad looking. I want to spruce it up a little, but I don’t want to scare anyone seeing a grave decorate itself in a cemetery.”

“Of course, Reggie,” she said, reaching out grabbing his shoulder, not caring that she looked crazy to people passing by. “Lead the way.”

The bus ride was long, but it was thankfully pretty empty, and after putting in a pair of airPods, Julie and Reggie passed the time talking about nothing of significance. Willie had been giving Luke and Reggie a crash course in 21st century pop culture, apparently, and Reggie’s current obsession was Parks and Rec. When they finally got off the bus, Julie wasn’t sure they were in the right place, but Reggie forged on confidently ahead. The cemetery was overgrown, so much so that it took Julie a second to recognize the stone markers spotted in the weeds. It was nothing like the cemetery her Mom was buried in. Though of course it was always sad visiting her resting place, Rose’s cemetery was covered in bright flowers and carefully maintained lawns that showed how much the people inside were missed. Looking at the patches of dirt and overturned headstones, Julie wasn’t sure she could say the same for the people buried here.

“Did Alex’s parents not have a lot of money?” she asked, wincing. It was not her most tactful moment.

Reggie laughed bitterly. “His Dad was a lawyer. They had money.”

“So why. . .” she trailed off uncertainly, gesturing at the rundown space around them.

“Because they suck,” Reggie said. “Did you know they’re still alive?” he asked. “His Dad’s a partner; his Mom’s a Stepford wife running all these fancy committees. I went to their house. There’s not a picture of Alex anywhere.”

Julie stopped, stunned, but Reggie kept walking ahead, undeterred. She scrambled to catch up. When he stopped finally, it was in front of a mound as unkempt as all the others,  _ Alexander Mercer  _ barely visible under the moss covering the marker. They hadn’t even bothered to put the dates. 

Reggie crouched down in front of the grave, fingers skimming the marker. “Hey buddy,” he whispered so quietly Julie wasn’t sure she was supposed to have heard. He cleared his throat and looked up at Julie. “Can you help me clear the weeds?”

They worked in silence, and it unnerved Julie. All of the boys were chatty, but Reggie especially. The wind blew, and Julie shivered; if there was a real, physical ghost across from her, what else could be lurking in this abandoned place? 

“I’m just—we were supposed to be together, you know?” Reggie said out of nowhere. He scrubbed the dirt off the grave marker angrily. “We  _ died  _ together. Luke and Alex and even Bobby had my back for so long that I don’t know how to be alone.”

Julie understood the sentiment. How did you carry forward when one of the pillars supporting you collapsed? “Well, thankfully you don’t have to be,” she said. Like with Luke, Julie felt annoyed with herself; just because it was a true statement didn’t make it  _ helpful. _ “You’ve still got Luke, and you’ve got me.”

“Thanks, Julie. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much this week.” Reggie finally looked up, and his eyes were red. “It’s just; every time I’m in the studio it feels like Alex is still here. It’s a little much.” He looked down at the grave consideringly. “I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get. We’d better get home before Ray starts to worry.”

She laughed and stood up, turning to leave, but Reggie stopped her, fumbling with his jacket pockets. After a second, he pulled out Alex’s drumsticks. “I went back and found them,” he said, “after we realized he wasn’t. . .after you pulled the stamps off of us.” He bent down again, crossing them below the headstone. “Okay.” 

When they finally left, Julie thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye, a shadow that looked like someone looming behind her. She turned, and there was nothing there.

Must have just been her imagination. 

Shivering, she ran to catch up with Reggie.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Thank you so much for your comments; they really make my week. Posting Monday works better for me schedule wise, so I'm going to keep the Monday schedule going forward. I'm also going to gently point everyone to the tags again; Willie's been through a lot, and his self perception and worth has really taken a hit. I'm playing fast and loose with the ghost magic rules and the timeline, here; the boys probably realistically missed Oasis by a few months, but tomato tomahto. Also, I realized that the boys never told Willie the *name* of their old bandmate, and things went downhill pretty much immediately after that conversation, so Willie just thinks they're all really big Trevor Wilson fans for some reason.

The beach, as always, was a comfort.

In life, Willie hadn’t been too fond of the beach, even though his Mom had practically lived in the water. He couldn’t skate on sand, and he wasn’t much of a swimmer. But now, he found the gentle push pull of the waves comforting in a way few things were in death, and, unlike the Club or Julie’s studio, he could be alone with his thoughts. He still wasn’t sure why he’d gone back to the studio after being kicked out of the Club; to see where Alex had spent his time, maybe. No part of him had been naive enough to hope that Alex had made it. And Willie had been right; even if Luke and Reggie were still here, Alex was gone.

He’d known Alex for less than a month. It was stupid and childish, Willie reminded himself, to feel like he’d died all over and again.

Still, it was hard to be in the studio. Alex’s drums loomed like a ghoulish specter, and seeing the others’ grief only amplified his own. He appreciated the hospitality Julie and Luke and Reggie had shown him, even if they’d only done it out of respect for Alex. Julie had said as much, though she’d been kind about it. _You were important to Alex, so you’re important to me._

He watched the waves roll in and out, syncing his breaths with the water as he scratched absently at his chest. There had never been anything physical to mark Caleb’s ownership of Willie’s soul, but Willie had gotten used to feeling Caleb’s presence clinging around him, and the absence of it felt like a healing scab he couldn’t stop scratching at. He was still expecting Caleb to show up any minute and explain that it had all been a lie, that Willie was still bound to do Caleb’s bidding, that he still had some way to imprison Reggie and Luke. Breath speeding up, Willie yanked off his puka choker to try to stop the feeling he was being strangled. 

There was a soft whoomph behind him, and Willie jumped, hysterically afraid he’d summoned Caleb somehow. But instead Reggie sat down beside him, dangling his legs off the pier. “I was worried,” Reggie said. “You were gone a while.” 

Willie hmmed, but didn’t reply. Even if he was a friend of Alex’s rather than a friend of Reggie’s, it’d been a long time since he’d had someone to worry about him. It was. . .nice. 

Reggie shifted. He was clearly uncomfortable with silence; spending as much time as he had around Alex’s frantic pacing and Luke’s boyish energy, Willie supposed Reggie had never had a chance to _experience_ silence. “I’m okay,” Willie offered. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor. Alex said you were good with pop culture. Julie’s been trying to teach us, but it’s been a very _girly_ education. Which don’t get me wrong; it’s been great! I’m super bummed we missed out on the Sailor Moon tv show. But I feel like there’s a lot I’m still missing out on. Like, I _just_ found out No Doubt broke up. And there’s so much new Star Wars stuff I don’t know where to start.”

He managed to summon a smile. “Has Julie told you about the Mandalorian?”

~

Watching tv had turned into watching Luke and Julie. 

“I bet he tucks her hair behind her ear,” Willie said, nudging Reggie in the arm.

“ _Please,”_ Reggie whispered back. “She intentionally missed that strand when she pulled her hair up just so he would. It’s Julie’s world, man. We’re just living in it.”

They were camped up in the loft of the studio, laptop asleep as Julie and Luke, oblivious to their audience, sat incredibly close on the piano bench below. Luke was singing a slowed down Trevor Wilson song, and Julie was tapping out the accompanying melody on the piano. _Forget the lights, forget the fame; I just wanna spend the long weekend with you_ he crooned. Willie could see Julie’s blush from here, and he couldn’t blame her: Luke had a great voice. 

He watched them harmonizing effortlessly, completely unaware of anyone else around them. “What’s going on there?”

Reggie sighed. “A disgusting amount of pining.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he continued quietly. “Alex and I always made fun of them together; it hasn’t been the same, since he left. Flynn and I would have a pretty good beat, but it doesn’t work as well when she can’t see Luke and Julie has to translate how I’m making fun of them.”

There was a commotion in the studio as Julie’s little brother Carlos burst in. Julie yelped and she and Luke jumped back. Carlos’s eyes widened at Julie jumping away from what would look like air, but Willie was too busy looking at what he had in his hands. 

Alex had once explained, or tried to explain, how his and the other boys instruments were tied to their souls. Willie, distracted by the unexpected attractiveness of being able to summon an entire drum set at will, hadn’t been totally paying attention, but he’d gotten the gist. Willie couldn’t quite do the same with his skateboard, so when he and Reggie had returned from the beach, he’d left it propped up outside the garage. 

And now his board was in the sticky hands of a ten year old. 

He poofed down, Reggie behind him. “Uh, Julie, can you ask him to be gentle?” Willie asked. He didn’t want to offend his host, but he’d had that board since he died, and she was sturdy but not _that_ sturdy. 

“Carlos, put that down,” Julie snapped. She had the Mom voice perfect. “That’s Willie’s.”

Carlos obliged but turned, apparently having sniffed out a new treat. “Whose Willie?” he asked. 

“He’s a friend.”

Carlos’s eyes widened. “A _ghost_ friend?”

Willie whipped around to Reggie, who shrugged. “What can I say? Little dude’s a genius.”

Julie sighed, which Carlos obviously took as ascent. “That’s so cool!” Carlos said. “Can he teach me how to skateboard?”

“— _Carlos_ ,” Julie said in the Mom voice again, exasperated, but Willie waved her off. “No, it’s cool. I used to teach all my little cousins. It’s no problem.”

Julie looked like she was going to protest again. “No seriously,” he said. “It actually sounds fun. It’ll give me something to do besides lie around and mooch off of you.” 

“What did he say?” Carlos asked, bouncing. “Did he say he’ll do it?”

Julie sighed, clearly giving in. “You have to wear a helmet the _entire_ time.”

~

Teaching Carlos ended up being really fun. They communicated with Julie acting as translator, and Willie scribbling things down on a white board. No one had suggested trying to see if Reggie and Luke could still be heard singing without Alex, and Willie hadn’t suggested it. Reggie had been right when he’d said the kid was smart; he’d taken to skating faster than Willie had when he was that age. Luke and Julie had also taken a turn; neither were half bad, even if they weren’t quite the natural Carlos was. Reggie, however, wiped out pretty much the second he stepped on the board. They’d decided to call it quits at that point; Carlos and Julie had headed off for dinner, and Reggie, resplendent with a dinosaur tattoo across his cheekbone, forced Luke and Willie to watch a movie. Willie had gotten to introduce them to _Pirates of the Caribbean,_ and they were half way through the Tortuga scene when Reggie remembered he’d left his puka necklace at the pier. His Mom had given it to him the first time she’d taken him surfing, and it was one of the few things he still had from before. 

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, sitting up. Luke, squished between Reggie and Willie on the small couch, looked over. “Everything okay, man?”

“I left my necklace at the beach. BRB.”

“Beach Reads . . . Bro?” he heard Reggie say right before he poofed out.

Thankfully, Willie’s necklace was still dangling on the edge of the pier; a miracle, really, given how many people had probably been through here today. He fastened it around his neck, feeling a little more settled with its weight, and was getting ready to head back to the studio when a flash of light caught his eye. A woman down the beach had just lit a cigarette.

He squinted. Was that. . .?

“Shonda?” he asked, heading up to her. Out of everything terrible that had happened over the past few weeks, Willie hadn’t really had a chance to mourn the loss of staff at the Club. Caleb was very good at what he did; Willie wasn’t the only person who’d been suckered in by the promise of family. The HGC crew was tight, and it was the one thing Willie truly missed from that awful place.

“Willie!” Shonda said, blinking. “You’re alive! Well, you know what I mean,” she said, gesturing at him. “We all thought Caleb had—” 

She trailed off, closing her eyes and taking a drag of the cigarette. She didn’t look like her usual bright self; her skin was pale and ashen, and there was a new furrow between her eyebrows. “No one saw you after Caleb took you to the back that night. We thought you were gone.”

“I thought I would be too. Shonda, it was so _weird,_ ” he said, finally glad to be able to talk his confusion out with someone. “He was ready to end me, and then he _gave me my soul back_ and sent me packing.”

“He—he gave your soul back?” Shonda asked.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I still don’t get it.” He reached out, briefly rubbing her arm. “But—how are you? How are the others? Did Caleb go ballistic when the guys escaped?”

“I’m not gonna lie to you Willie, it hasn’t been easy.” Shonda laughed bitterly. “He’s been driving everyone twice as hard. And now with the expansion plans—” she cut off abruptly, biting her lip and looking away.

“Expansion plans?” he repeated, a heavy feeling in his gut. 

Shonda fiddled with the cigarette, not meeting his eyes. “I shouldn’t be talking to you, Willie,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Not all of us have a get out of jail free card to play.” 

“Shonda, you have to tell me. If he’s planning something, the band could still be in danger. It’s my fault they’re on Caleb’s radar; I have to try to protect them.” Caleb was as relentless as a dog with a bone when it came to seeking power, and, unlike before, Willie now realized he didn’t care who got in his way.

“He’s. . .recruiting, heavily,” she finally said. “I don’t know why, but he’s been using a lot of energy lately. Derrick thinks he’s trying to materialize out of the Club.” 

“Materialize out of the Club?” Willie repeated stupidly. Caleb, as powerful as he was, could only communicate with Lifers in the Club. If he was able to extend his powers outside of the HGC. . . “Shonda. He can’t do that. We have to stop him.”

“You’re strong, Willie, but Caleb’s on another level and you know it. And he still owns my soul,” she said harshly, “and everyone else’s at the club.”

She turned away, staring out into the water. “Just. . .Go enjoy having your freedom back while you can.” 

“Shonda, _please_.” He stepped closer, and she took an answering step away. 

“I’m sorry, Willie.” She teleported away, the smell of smoke from her cigarette lingering.

~

Willie didn’t tell Luke and Reggie about what Shonda had said. All he had to go on was that Caleb _might_ be planning _something,_ and that wasn’t actionable. There was no need to get them worked up over what could be nothing, especially when they were still hurting over losing Alex. He needed more information, first. Maybe he could find Shonda at the beach again, or another one of the Club ghosts. 

As Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow were walking the plank, Reggie turned, elbowing him in the stomach. “You okay, Willie?”

Willie forced himself to smile. “Just wishing I had some popcorn, s’all.” 

“Yeah,” Reggie sighed. “Caleb may have been the devil, but man he had good food.”

After the movie, the boys headed to wind down for the night. Apparently Reggie had been staying unannounced in Molina's guest room, while Luke had been crashing on the ratty couch in the studio. Reggie had offered Willie to stay in the guest room with him, but Willie had declined; the Chateau Marmont had an opening, he’d explained.

But instead of going to watch Leonardo DiCaprio hitting on Taylor Swift, Willie found himself pacing outside of the Molina house. Caleb had made clear his disinterest in Willie, but surely he had to still be interested in the Phantoms? Had he figured out they hadn’t crossed over? The last time Willie had let his guard down around Caleb, Alex had gotten killed, and Luke and Reggie had nearly followed. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. 

He was free from Caleb, and yet, Caleb was all Willie could think about.

At one point, Willie found himself inside the house, checking to make sure its residents were safe. He felt vaguely creepy as he walked through Julie’s, Carlos’, and finally Ray’s rooms, but he needed to see with his own two eyes that he hadn’t caused any more problems for this family. 

He watched Ray sleeping; in the dark, snoring softly with his head buried in the pillow, Willie could almost pretend it was his own Dad. Bill Hirano hadn’t been nearly as hip as Ray Molina, but he’d loved Willie as much as Ray clearly loved Julie and Carlos. Neither of his parents had ever really gotten the skateboard thing; his Dad was a high school English teacher and his Mom was a journalist, but they’d always cheered him on, and bought him gear for his birthday. They called ollies _olives_ and once bought him what was clearly a snowboard, but it didn’t matter, because they’d loved Willie, for all that he was. 

In another world, Ray and his parents would have been friends, probably. 

He wondered if his parents would still be proud of him if they could see what he was doing. He’d blindly followed a megalomaniac, gotten Alex killed, and put the rest of the band and Julie’s family in danger. And the worst part was, Caleb was still out there, possibly planning to hurt more people.

Junior year of high school, Willie had gotten suspended for three days after he’d decked Aaron Glovitz. He’d tried to explain to Principal Matthews that he’d only done it because he was pulling Becky Suarez’s bra strap, but Principal Matthews had frowned and said _you know we have a zero tolerance policy William_ and _we’re going to have to call your parents._ His Mom had to leave work early, and Willie had been terrified of her reaction.

She had yelled _very_ loudly, but at Principal Matthews, not Willie. Then she’d taken Willie for ice cream and said she’d never been more proud. He hadn’t been afraid to act in trying to do the right thing, she’d explained. 

It would have been cowardly, she’d said, to stand and back and do nothing because he was afraid.

~

Willie left without telling the others where he was going. He felt guilty—there was a non-zero chance, that, despite Willie’s best intentions, he wouldn’t survive the night. But if he told them, or left them a note, they would want to get involved, and Willie couldn’t put them in any more danger.

He appeared a few blocks from the Club, deciding out of an abundance of caution to walk the rest of the way. The sun was still a few hours from rising, which meant the party would be in full swing still; Caleb would be in host mode, especially if he was trying to bring in new Lifers. This, Willie figured, was his best chance to try and figure out what was going on without having Caleb spot him and destroying him on the spot.

He started to shake a little as he got closer to the building; the last time he’d been here, he’d been convinced he was going to die. He steeled himself, deciding to check the perimeter first. He had enough ghostly powers to be able to defend himself in a fight, but he’d quickly be outnumbered in the club. It didn’t matter that most of the people in there were his friends, not when Caleb controlled them and was at his most powerful in the Club. 

He turned the corner, trying to figure out a plan. There was the freight door where the deliveries were made; it was usually pretty empty—

Distracted by his thoughts, Willie ran smack into something. He looked up to see Dmitri, Caleb’s brick-house bodyguard. 

“Oh, hi, Dmitri!” Willie sputtered. “I was just—I left my—”

Dmitri sighed, rolling his eyes. “Kid, you are a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. What are you doing here?”

He took a deep breath. “I heard. . .that Caleb was. . . _expanding,_ and I was wondering—”

“Trying to get back in his good graces?” Dmitri asked.

“No!” Willie protested, offended. “God, no; the opposite.” Dmitri’s eyebrow’s rose, and Willie swallowed. “Dmitri, I’m going to be honest and hope you don’t kill me immediately. Caleb already killed my— _friend,”_ he settled on. “I just want to make sure he’s not going to hurt the others.”

Dmitri sighed, and Willie waited to be put in front of Caleb like a pig on a silver platter, the apple in his mouth Willie’s own stupidity. “Look, you know I can’t tell you what the Boss is doing. Now. . .” He looked at Willie consideringly, and Willie braced himself for pain. “Well, technically you’re not in the club, I guess,” Dmitri said. “Go, before Caleb sees you,” 

Willie was already focusing on the loft, realizing a break when he saw it, when Dmitri added, “And Willie? Think about everything Caleb gave you, at the Club.”

~

The studio was empty when Willie got back, which was good, because the last thing Willie needed right now was for one of the others to see the state he was in. He could feel himself shaking, breaths coming faster, and he needed to sit down somewhere and get his shit together before he broke down in the middle of the garage.

He automatically started to head to the couch, but he wanted to be somewhere a little more private. He thought about zapping up to the loft, but it always smelled a little like feet. He looked around, desperate, and. . .

There was a soft looking blanket wadded up in the corner, behind the abandoned drum kit. 

Willie took a shaky breath and padded over, sinking down until he was as close to the floor as possible, wrapping himself in the blanket. It smelled like fabric softener and fresh air and nothing like the vaguely musty smell of the studio; it couldn’t have been here long. It seemed like someone else had the same idea. 

He stared out blankly, the bass drum blocking most of the view. He’d never been on this side of the drums before; just one more thing that had changed so dramatically in the last few weeks. For the first time in his life, in his afterlife, he was free. Luke and Reggie had survived, and Alex. . .

Alex was gone.

And now Caleb was planning God knows what. How had things gone south so quickly? 

Because of Willie, that was why. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t led the band straight to Caleb.

“Hey, Willie, you here?” Reggie’s voice called out. “Julie won’t tell me what WAP means—Jesus, Willie, are you okay?”

He looked up to see Reggie hurrying over. Willie could only imagine how he looked; he’d never been a pretty crier, and he was pretty sure he was snotting on himself at this point. Reggie shifted one of the cymbals out of the way, wincing as he touched it, and then settled down beside Willie, tugging on where he’d cocooned himself in the blanket. Willie stiffened in response; in life, he’d always been incredibly touchy feely, but that had been a long, _long_ time ago.

“C’mon, man, I’m cold,” Reggie said gently. He tugged the blanket free from Willie and scooted in closer, rewrapping them both in the blanket. He slung an arm around Willie and tugged until Willie was leaning against him. “I’m going to get snot on your shirt,” Willie said, but he stopped resisting, burying his cheek into the soft flannel. 

“Eh,” Reggie laughed. “I’ll throw it in the laundry when Julie’s not looking. Now, you wanna tell me why you look like Luke when he found Oasis broke up?”

“I was just. . .thinking about Alex,” he said. He didn’t want to get into the Caleb thing for a myriad of reasons, and besides, didn’t it all come back to Alex, anyway? “I know l only knew him for a little bit—it’s nothing like what you and Luke are dealing with—”

“Dude,” Reggie said. Willie could feel shoulder lift as he chuckled. “Unlike street dogs, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a sell by date on relationships before you’re allowed to care about someone. Besides, he was _crazy_ about you after like, the first time you met. You guys were on full Cinderella, only, you know, with a cracked helmet instead of a glass slipper.”

“It never would have worked. After what I did? C’mon, Reggie.”

“What did you do?” Reggie asked. He tightened his arm around Willie. “Walked Alex through Ghost 101 when he was panicking? Be his friend; help him with his anxiety? Tried to help him and had your trust taken advantage of by a Disney villain? Risked your life and happiness to try to save his? And mine, I might add. And Luke’s.”

“I got him killed, Reggie. It’s my fault he’s not here.”

“Willie. . .” Reggie sighed. “The only person at fault is Caleb. You had the wool pulled over your eyes, man. You’re as much of a victim as any of us.” 

“I just—I was so lonely,” Willie said, trying to explain. “And Caleb was so nice, at first, and—”

“Hey, I get that. The guys were my only real family even before we died. Caleb would have definitely gotten me if I’d been by myself. I mean, not dying and all is a big perk, but honestly he would have sold me with pizza. But we made a pact; whatever happened to us, we were going to do it together.” 

They sat in silence for a bit. Willie could feel that his eyes were crusty and swollen, but his breathing had calmed down, and his heart wasn’t racing anymore. The view of the bass drums seemed comforting now instead of intimidating, like Alex was here with them. “You’re good at that,” Willie said when it felt like he could speak again. Reggie raised an eyebrow. “Calming hysterical people down.”

“Alex,” Reggie simply said.

~

Later, after he and Reggie had climbed out from behind the drum set, and Willie had very thoroughly washed his face, he returned to the pier. He was hoping to see Shonda again, and maybe he just needed a little more space to think. He still had to find out what Caleb was up to, but other than Shonda and Dmitri’s cryptic clues, he had nothing to go on. Maybe he did need to ask Julie and Luke and Reggie for help. . .

_Think about everything Caleb gave to you at the Club._

Willie turned the phrase over and over in his mind and kicked the sand out of frustration. What Dmitri had said wasn’t helpful in the slightest. What had he had at the Club? Caleb had taught him some fancy tricks; maybe that was what Dmitri had meant? He’d had his skateboard, but that had been his long before he’d joined the Club. His soul had been _taken_ from him, and all that had been left in its place was the heavy tether that tied him to Caleb—

The tether. The link that had bound him to Caleb had been destroyed when Caleb had given Willie his soul back, but.

But Caleb had made a mistake. He’d never destroyed the one that let Willie find Alex when he’d been sent to recruit Alex. Willie hadn’t bothered to check it after he’d learned Alex hadn’t made it out of the Orpheum; he’d been too afraid of what he would feel when there was no response on the other side.

 _This is ridiculous,_ Willie thought as he closed his eyes and focused. Alex was gone.

Even though the connections tying spirits together weren’t tangible, to get them to work, it always helped to visualize something. So Willie imagined that thin but strong red string of fate, spilling out of him and looping around to Alex. 

The second he tried to follow the string, Willie felt like he’d been submerged in ice water. Whatever was happening at the other end, it was _not_ good. He’d never felt a connection that had been severed, but surely it had to be something like this? There was a sharp pain in his head, the same place where his helmet was cracked, and Willie felt like he was going to hurl. There was no way he could keep this up.

But then he thought about Alex. Alex, with his bright eyes and brighter smile. Alex, who told the corniest jokes possible and still made them hilarious. Alex, tapping his fingers on his thigh in an absent melody, Alex, head thrown back in laughter, Alex, hugging him like his Afterlife depended on it. Willie thought of Alex, and pushed past the pain, and pulled. 

And, so faintly Willie wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, something pulled back. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely words of encouragement! They really make my day; you don't even know. February is going to be crazy for me work-wise, so there's a chance I might not be able to update next week; however, I'm going to do my best because it's a very fun chapter lol.

Julie grimaced, pulling out Reggie’s disgusting flannel from the corner. After the guilt of leaving her Mom’s studio untouched for so long, she’d resolved to keep it dusted and clean, and it’d become a necessity after the boys had started living there. Keeping three ghosts living in the garage a secret from her Dad was hard, and Reggie leaving dirty clothes behind Alex’s drum set didn’t help.

She took a deep breath, staring at the drum set. It was covered in a layer of dust, and she _had_ cleaned the rest of the studio already. She started humming absently as she wiped it down with a dust rag, but it quickly transformed to singing _Finally Free_ under her breath. She’d told her Dad she never felt closer to Mom when she sang, and she’d found the same was true for Alex, especially now that she was also with his drums. She’d quickly learned that Alex had left the Sunset Curve lyrics writing process to Luke and occasionally Reggie (“he tried to write a love song about his dandruff _,”_ Luke had explained, grimacing. “He called it _I’m Flaky for You._ At least Reggie’s songs make _sense_.”), but he’d tentatively offered lyric suggestions for the _We’re all bright now_ verse, and Julie would forever remember his small smile when they’d all fawned over how good it sounded. 

She could feel his presence as she sang louder and louder until it felt like he was physically standing next to her. She closed her eyes, and imagined him standing in front of her. She thought about him at his happiest: eyes sparkling, wrapped in his pink hoodie, as he’d absently tapped out a melody on his snare, telling her about his new ghost _friend._

When she opened her eyes, the image stayed. Only it wasn’t the healthy version of Alex in her mind standing in front of her. Instead he looked sickly and grey, _exhausted,_ like her Mom had before she had died. He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something—

She blinked, the song cutting off in her throat, and Alex disappeared.

Trembling, she sat down on the couch. _I feel like I’m going crazy,_ Luke had said after he’d confessed to still hearing Alex’s voice. Apparently he wasn’t the only one.

Shaken, she put the dust rag down and headed into the main house. She was so distracted that she didn’t notice her Dad leaving until she crashed into him on the front stoop. He caught her shoulders as she bounced backwards and held on, squeezing. “Whoa. Where’s the fire?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t tell her Dad she was seeing a ghost of a ghost without ending up in the hospital. “Nothing, just forgot I was supposed to meet Flynn for froyo. I’m running late, so—”

Her Dad let go. “Hey, I’ll let you go—I’ve gotta head off to a job anyway. But first,” her Dad said, “Have you had a chance to talk to the band yet? About meeting with the agent?”

She sighed. “I’ve been trying to. But it’s been hard finding the right time.”

“I can imagine. Have you. . .heard from your drummer?” Ray asked gently. “Are his parents still grounding him for being gay?”

She thought of the apparition her mind had conjured up in the garage. “No. I think we’re all having trouble accepting he’s gone.” 

“Mija,” Ray said gently. “You can take as much time as you need, and you can always decide to say no. But I don’t think this agent is going to stay interested much longer. Now, I can tell them that we’re not interested at this time. . .”

“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t do that. I’ll. . .talk to the boys tonight.”

Ray kissed her on the head. “No matter what you decide, I’m still proud of you.”

“Thanks Papi.”

~

She paced back and forth in her room, trying to imagine how to have this conversation. Maybe she should go get froyo with Flynn and talk it out first. . .

“I’m telling you, that dress is _white._ ” Reggie stormed through Julie’s bedroom, Luke trailing behind him. Reggie turned toward her. “Julie—yeah, yeah, we were supposed to knock, but tell _Lucas_ that dress is white!”

“Dude, are you color blind? It’s blue!” Luke said. “Jules, you know I’m ri—Julie, you okay?” He stepped up to her, taking her hand in his and thumbing her wrist. Reggie came beside Luke, reaching out and squeezing her arm.

“You guys need to sit,” she said, forcing the words out. “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you gay?” Reggie asked, dragging Luke over to the bed and pushing him down. “This feels a lot like when Alex came out to us.”

“No!” Julie protested. “I mean, I do like girls, but also _boys_ ,” she clarified hurriedly, seeing the disappointed look on Luke’s face. “But that’s _not_ what I wanted to talk about.” She swallowed, recentering herself. “Um, Dad’s been getting calls from an agent who saw us play at the Orpheum. He’s interested in meeting with us.” 

It was quiet for a minute. “Oh,” Luke finally said faintly.

“Yeah. And if we’re gonna do it, we need to decide quickly.”

“I guess we should meet with him?” Reggie said. His statement sounded more like a question. “I mean, this has always been our goal. . .” 

“We’ll have to find a new drummer,” Luke added. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Julie said, echoing her father’s words from earlier. It was important that the boys knew that too. The last time they’d been talking about their bands future, they’d joked about Alex missing their tour after a falling out. She hadn’t imagined it happening quite like this. “We’re all hurting, and it’s okay if we need to take more time.”

“Alex would want us to,” Luke finally said. “Let’s just hear what he has to say. We can always say no.”

Julie nodded. For all that she’d built this conversation up in her head, the reality had been fairly anticlimactic. “I’ll ask Dad to set up a meeting next week. Give us some time to mull it over.” 

Reggie stood. “I’m, uh. I’m gonna go find Willie. Tell him the news.” He disappeared before Julie could say anything, and Luke sighed.

“He’s not doing so good,” Luke said. “With all of this. Losing Alex has hit him hard.” 

“Oh, and you’re doing so great?” Julie asked.

Luke snorted and laid back on the bed. Julie laid down beside him, resting her head on his arm and turning to face him.

He smiled at her, and she could feel her heart speed up a little. “I could definitely be better, but I could be worse.”

She bit her lip, trying to figure out to word her next question as delicately as possible. “If we decide to move forward with this agent. . .you said you were having trouble writing,” she finally settled on. 

Luke clearly understood what she was referring to and shrugged, the small smile falling off of his face. “I don’t know, Jules. I sure as hell don’t feel like writing, and the only time I feel like singing is when—” he cut off abruptly, blush spreading across his face.

“When what?” Julie asked quietly, afraid that being too loud would break the spell. 

The smile returned. “When I’m with you.”

Julie’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh,” she said eloquently, but she was smiling too. It felt like the butterflies in her room were all taking flight in her stomach, and they lay there, staring at each other—

There was a faint _oomph_ that signaled Reggie returning. Julie and Luke jumped back, and Julie braced herself for endless teasing, but when she looked up at Reggie, she forgot all about the awkwardness. Reggie was ashen and shaking—he didn’t look so dissimilar from when Caleb’s stamp had nearly taken him out.

“Come to the studio,” he said. “Willie needs to talk to us.”

~

In the brief time it took Julie and Luke to walk to the studio, chaos had descended.

(It warmed her heart that Luke didn’t immediately poof out and leave her to walk by herself.)

“You went back _to the Club?_ ” Reggie was saying, hands pinwheeling. “Willie, you could have been killed!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Julie said. “What’s going on now?”

Reggie fell silent, looking expectantly at Willie. Willie closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them and looking at the three of them. “I think. . .I think Alex might not be gone.” 

“What?” Julie asked.

“I think Alex might still be alive.”

“I mean, he’s not _really_ alive,” Reggie joked faintly. “Just possibly less dead than we thought.”

When Julie’s parents had sat her down and told her that Rose had cancer, that it would probably kill her, Julie’s brain had stopped working for a while. It wasn’t denial that her Mom was sick, it was a complete inability to process the information. Every time she tried to think about the fact that her Mom was going to die, and probably soon, an endless drone started in her head, like a phone left off the hook. _Error,_ it signaled. _Try to process this life changing information later._

She felt the same now.

“What?” she repeated, barely able to hear herself over the roaring in her ears.

“I. . .” Willie was standing still except for the faint swipe of his thumb rubbing his opposite arm. It was oddly soothing, and Julie locked in on the motion. “Caleb had a way to link ghosts to other ghosts, to make it easier to find them. We always called them trackers or tethers. He put one on Alex, which is how we met—”

“Wait, _what_ ,” Luke said.

“And he never removed it when he kicked me out. And I hadn’t bothered to check it because I didn’t want to know what it felt like when there was nothing on the other side, but then I ran into a friend from the Club and—”

“Willie, _get to the point,_ ” Luke said. Reggie smacked him on the shoulder.

“I checked the tracker yesterday,” Willie said, looking like he was about to cry. “And something’s still on the other side.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us this sooner?” she asked, furious, as what Willie was saying started to sink in.

“I wanted to make sure. The last time I thought I knew what was going on. . .” he trailed off, looking at the boys. “But I couldn’t. Normally I could just teleport to the other end of the tether and see for myself, but something’s blocking me.” 

“So what now?” 

“Wait, we don’t even know for sure that Alex is still alive,” Reggie said. “I mean, why wouldn’t he have found us by now?”

“He could be hurt,” Julie said. “Or not able to get to us or imprisoned somewhere or—or he might be trying to send us a message.“ She closed her eyes, the moment from earlier replaying in full technicolor. “I think—I think I might have seen him this morning. I was cleaning the drums, and I was thinking about him, and it was just for a second so I thought I was imagining things.”

“Our instruments are tied to our souls,” Luke said slowly, realization dawning on his face. “I kept hearing Alex every time I went near the kit. I thought it was grief, but maybe—

“Maybe if we can summon our instruments, maybe it works in reverse.”

Julie swallowed, a chill running down her spine. When she’d been on stage at school, singing _Bright,_ the boys had appeared unplanned and visible as if by magic. The scene had repeated itself at the Orpheum, and she’d felt like a siren, only she was luring them _away_ from the jagged cliffs.

. . .She’d been singing when she’d seen Alex this morning.

“So we try to summon him?” Reggie asked uncertainly. 

Willie shook his head. “We need to make sure he's even there, first. I felt _something,_ but something was wrong at the other end of that line. If it’s not Alex, or he’s been warped somehow, we don’t want to bring that energy into the studio. It could get dangerous really fast.”

“Warped?” Luke repeated. For the first time since Julie had known him, he sounded afraid.

“Yeah.” Willie bit his lip. “When ghosts have been ghosts too long, haven’t figured out their unfinished business or can’t achieve it or whatever, they can become. . .they lose touch with their humanity. Caleb might be evil, but he’s at least operating on reason. Warped ghosts are pretty much feral. Before you guys, putting down feral ghosts was the only reason I’d ever seen Caleb use his stamp. It usually takes a long time, like, _centuries_ long, to go feral, but what I felt on the other end of that tether. . .”

“So what are you suggesting?” Julie asked.

Willie stood a little straighter. “I think I know a way we can check to make sure it’s actually Alex I’m feeling. Whatever’s blocking me from going to him is physical, so we go spiritual. It’s like. . .astral projection. Basically I can only put us in one spot, and we can’t move, and we can’t touch anything or do anything, and it will only be for a few seconds and it takes a _ton_ of energy. But it’ll let us see him. I just need something of his to focus on.”

In sync, they all turned and looked at the kit in the corner.

~

Willie had insisted they wait for nightfall.

Something about spiritual energies being stronger, or something; Julie honestly had no idea what he was talking about, but she was glad Willie apparently had a PhD in ghost mechanics from HGC University. Besides, her Dad had poker tonight and Carlos was sleeping over at a friend’s house, so there was no chance they’d be interrupted. With everything going on in her life right now, Julie really didn’t need to be grounded for attempting to conduct a Satanic ritual.

Her Dad made her dinner before he left—actual cooked food, rather than spaghetti or sandwiches, which is how she knew he was trying to comfort her. Food was Ray Molina’s love language. He put an enchilada on her plate and said “so did you get to talk to the boys?”

Right, the agent. They’d only talked this morning, but it felt like a lifetime ago. “Um, I did. We decided that we want to talk to him just to see what the offer is, but we’re not in a hurry to make any decisions. Maybe we could set something up late next week?”

“ _Set something up,_ ” her Dad teased. “Yes, I’ll have their people call your people. Which is me, I guess.”

Julie laughed. “Thanks, Dad.”

“But seriously, Julie; I think that’s a smart decision. Hearing what they have to say doesn’t mean you’re signing your soul away.”

Thinking of Alex, Julie felt any humor dissipate. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” she said listlessly. Her Dad was looking at her, concerned, so she swallowed and continued, “and, uh, Dad? I’m going to be in the studio tonight, but if you get back early I really need privacy.” Her Dad raised an eyebrow, so she clarified, “We’re going to try to call Alex.” 

“Ah, say no more.” He piled more food on her plate. “I hope you get to talk to him, and I hope he’s okay.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

~

When her Dad was gone and she finally returned to the studio, she expected to see pentagrams and burning candles and skulls everywhere. Instead, the studio looked as it usually did, except the piano had moved against the wall, and in its place was Alex’s bass drum. She raised an eyebrow at Willie who was sitting next to it, and he shrugged. “Thought it’d be too hard to make a circle around the whole set.”

She nodded and sat down beside him, waving Luke and Reggie over from where they were collapsed on the couch. Beside her, Willie tensed. “Uh, Julie—” He paused. “I kind of thought that you’d just be watching.”

“Why would I just _watch?_ ” she echoed, totally confused.

“I don’t know if a Lifer can even do this.”

“We’ll look for Alex, Jules,” Luke said, “You stay safe here.”

Irritation flared within her. “Okay, may I remind you: the last time you went somewhere without me, you got tricked into nearly selling your souls. I’m coming, and that’s final.” By the end, she was embarrassed to find she was yelling. Reggie and Willie had leaned back a little, but Luke just laughed and gestured at her.

“You heard the lady.”

She settled down next to Willie, but he looked at her curiously; she realized Luke and Willie were holding hands. Blushing, she shifted over to make room for Reggie. She’d gotten so used to casual touches from Luke and Reggie that she’d forgotten the same didn’t apply to Willie. Reggie plopped down beside Willie, taking Willie’s hand, and wiggled his other hand at Julie. She rolled her eyes and grabbed both his and Luke’s hands; she could feel the calluses on their fingers, and she thumbed them, finding it comforting.

“Okay,” Willie said. “So, basically, think about your favorite memory of Alex, and think it hard at the drums.”

“That’s it?” Reggie asked. “No other instructions?”

“Think really hard?” Willie offered. “I’m doing most of the heavy lifting here. Oh, and don’t let go of each others’ hands. That part’s really important.”

Julie closed her eyes, sifting through her memories. Even though she hadn’t known the boys long, there were already so _many_ options. She thought about Alex dancing on stage with Carrie, when he’d asked if she’d gotten back into her music program, him asking her what _basic_ meant. But there was one memory that stood out from the others. After she’d accepted the boys’ apology, but before her Dad had banished her to her room for missing school, she’d camped out with Alex in the studio, watching as he meticulously painted white paint over the black Sunset Curve logo on the very bass drum in front of her. _We meant it when we said we were sorry,_ he’d said, squinting at the logo mockup Flynn had printed. _You’re our future now._

When he’d finished and left to try to find _this ghost I met he’s just a friend but he’s really nice why are you laughing at me!_ She’d gone back and touched it up—Alex’s artistic skills were better than Luke’s, but that wasn’t saying much. After a minute, she’d tracked down the beat up Sunset Curve demo and stared at the arc coming off the final “E” consideringly. When Alex had seen the swerve she’d added to the “S” in Phantoms, he’d gone misty eyed. _You can still remember your past,_ she’d said, and then he’d left again to go do something that definitely wasn’t crying from happiness.

She felt lighter, somehow, so she opened her eyes. Even in the small area she could see, the room she was in was the exact opposite energy of her Mom’s space. The room screamed _new money_. Velvet curtains, gold hardware, silk couches. She could hear jazz music playing faintly in the offing. Across from her, Willie was trembling and had gone pale. Luke and Reggie looked uneasy—it didn’t take a genius to put everything together and realize they had to be somewhere in Caleb’s club. She twisted to look behind her, since there was nothing interesting happening in her immediate view. It was a bit of a hassle, given Willie’s warning not to let go of each others’ hands; Luke’s shoulder was at an impossible angle, and Reggie’s arm was half strangling her, but she could finally see the other side of the room.

And there, laid out on a plush, ostentatious-looking chaise lounge, grey and sweaty and shaking but _whole_ , was Alex.

As soon as she saw him, Julie’s concentration slipped, and the scene in front of her started to shift. She tried to hold on, thinking _Alex Alex Alex_ in her head, but it flickered and wavered until, in the blink of an eye, they were back in the studio. 

The four of them stared at each other in silence, Alex’s bass drum the only remaining indicator of his presence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julie: This month we lost our dear drummer Alex.
> 
> Alex: Quit telling everyone I’m dead!
> 
> Julie: Sometimes I can still hear his voice.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the comments! Covid isolation is really making me crazy, so they're always a huge bright spot in my week. This is a shorter chapter than usual, but it was _so_ much fun to write--consider it an interlude of sorts.

“Mr. Arnold, there’s someone here to see you.” 

“Damn it, Charlene,” the angry voice boomed. “I told you I’m busy. Tell them to come back.”

These business types were _all_ the same. So far stuck up their own ass, high on self importance, pretending like they had power at every opportunity. Allen Arnold’s urgent business was probably placing calls to his bookie and trying to comb over his bald spot. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but—”

He couldn’t take anymore of the assistant’s simpering voice. “I think you’ll find the time,” he said, pushing her aside and closing the door behind him.

It was amusing, watching the color drain from Allen’s face. “Covington—”

Caleb sank down in the chair across from Allen and crossed his legs, propping them up on the desk between them. “Hello, Allen. I just wanted to check in, make sure you and your family are okay. After all, I haven’t seen you in the Club lately, and I noticed your membership fee was overdue—”

“You can’t be here, Covington. I’m only supposed to see you at the Club—”

Caleb offered his most winsome smile. “And yet, here I am.”

“I’ll get you the money,” Allen said, bluster gone. “I’m just a little short at the moment.”

Caleb considered his nails. One was looking a little jagged; he’d have to ask Francois for a manicure he returned to the Club. “Completely understandable, Allen. You’re one of my oldest patrons; what kind of man would I be if I didn’t provide you some leeway.” Allen’s shoulders dropped, and he let out a big breath. “You can take care of your late fee in another way.”

Allen’s shoulders climbed back up. “You already own my soul Covington, I can’t give you anything else.”

“Now, see,” Caleb took his feet off the desk, and leaned in close, watching a bead of sweat roll down Allen’s forehead. “That's where you’re wrong, Allen. I know you’re good for the money, so I won’t bother you about that. Money is trivial to me, anyway. I think there’s something more. . .valuable, you can provide. Now, I know you have all of those _wonderful_ golf buddies. Maybe some of them would be interested in a membership at the Hollywood Ghost Club?”

The sweat had reached his nose. “I’m not recruiting for you, Caleb.”

“Of course, can’t blame a man for trying.” Caleb nodded and stood up, heading for the door. Right before he put his hand on the handle, he paused, humming. “Maybe I’ll chat up your lovely assistant outside. She seems nice. Or, oh! I know.” He turned around, taking a few steps back to the desk. “Your son just started at Syracuse, didn’t he? I’ve always enjoyed basketball. Go Orange.”

“Covington—” 

Caleb leaned across the desk, settling a hand on Allen’s shoulder. “Let’s start with two souls by the end of the month and see where we are then, hmm?”

He squeezed Allen’s shoulder, but Caleb’s grip faltered, slipping through for a split second. Arnold, imbecile that he was, didn’t notice, but Caleb casually pulled his hand back, giving a big grin. “I look forward to doing business with you, Allen.”

He let the smile slip as he appeared back inside the Club, taking a deep breath as energy flooded back in now that he was on his home turf. Dmitri was by his side at an instant. “Our friend fading again?”

Dmitri frowned. “He was screaming, boss. I didn’t want him to go completely feral.” Dmitri had gone and started to feel sorry for the boy, and it was becoming _very_ inconvenient. Caleb sighed. It was so hard to find reliable help these days. 

“I’ll take care of him later,” he said. “I have some guests to entertain.” 

He headed in the direction of the Grand Hall, and thankfully Dmitri was out of sight when the pain shot through Caleb’s chest, forcing him to double over. Caleb winced, rubbing at it. “For God’s sake,” he said petulantly. “I still have a week.”

He straightened up and headed to the Hall.

He spent the next few hours wining and dining potential new members: an oil tycoon and the young girlfriend he’d bought instead of his wife ( _an eternity together—imagine!)_ ; an aging actress desperate to be back on tp ( _darling, you can star here whenever you like_ ); the physicist determined to get retribution on the colleague who’d stolen her thesis ( _for a small price, he’ll wish he never heard of you_ ). 

By the end of the night, he could feel a pulse for each and every one of them in his chest: the beat of new souls that belonged to him. 

He was riding high when he eventually retired to the back room. His whistling got a glare from its occupant, and Caleb rolled his eyes. “Now, now. Don’t frown; it’ll give you wrinkles.”

The frown increased. 

“Really, Alexander!” Caleb tutted. “Don’t be such a spoilsport. We had a very prosperous night.”

“Prosperous for who?” Alexander asked. His voice was gravelly, and he _was_ looking a little grey, Caleb supposed. 

“Mm, yes, about that. I heard we had a little trouble earlier. Not quite meeting our performance standards, are we?”

The boy sputtered. “I’m sorry I’m not a super athlete who can run a marathon so you can play Lex Luthor!” 

“Now, Alexander, let’s be reasonable.” Caleb grinned at him, patting him on the shoulder. Alexander reared up, or tried to—he didn’t get very far before he was groaning, collapsing back onto the couch. “You came to _me,_ let me remind you. I was happy to let you boys do your grand finale and go off into the great beyond, but you came whining and crying about how the Orpheum wasn’t your unfinished business after all and how I just _had_ to free William and save your precious bandmates.” He raised his voice an octave, taking on a nasally tone. “ _Please, Caleb, I’ll do anything!”_

The boy, apparently unable to muster up the energy to swat Caleb’s hand away, settled for glaring. “We would have never had to cross over in the first place if you hadn’t stamped us.” 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Alexander.” He pulled away, considering the room. “Everyone has debts, and they all come due eventually. Even in the afterlife.” 

The boy narrowed his eyes. “Is that true for you, too? What are your debts?” 

Hmm. This one was plucky. Maybe not as powerfully skilled as William or as bold as Luke, but Alex was a _schemer._ Caleb could appreciate that, even if it did make controlling him a bit more difficult. But Caleb was adaptable. Speaking of William. . .

“At least our dear Willie tried to pay his debts,” Caleb said casually. The boy’s eyes widened, taking the bait like a fish in front of a worm. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Oh, you know,” Caleb said, squatting down and looking the boy in the eyes. He could see the uncertainty on his face. “He has such a strong moral compass, our Willie. He felt so bad about recruiting you that he followed you around like a lost puppy dog, trying to make it right. Pathetic. I’d hate to see what he did for someone he actually liked.”

“What?” There was a flicker of doubt on his face.

“Surely you know, Alexander,” Caleb said, eyes widening in surprise. “I had Willie run into you intentionally to bring you into the club. He’s very good at the sales pitch, you see; I’d considered him something of a mentee. But he was too soft to follow things through; once he saw I’d stamped you, he would have done whatever he could to make you less angry. Guilt and a little bitterness towards me—powerful motivators.”

“Willie is my friend.”

“Oh, that’s right, your _adorable_ little crush. I’m sure Willie let you think it was requited.” Caleb tapped his chin in thought. “Hmm, let me guess. He told you that he cared about you, that you were wonderful. I taught him well. He helped you because he felt sorry, nothing more.” He gave the boy one last pat on the cheek before heading for the exit, calling over his shoulder. “Unlike Willie, Alexander, I will always be honest with you.”

Caleb left the boy to think about what he’d said as Caleb retired to his chambers. He sank down onto his sofa, thinking. The four souls he’d gained tonight and one drummer were a start, but they wouldn’t cover his debt when he’d promised a full band that could be visible to mortals. Whether William cared about Alexander as a person didn’t actually matter—Caleb had meant it when he’d said William would do anything to set things right. With the tether still connecting the boys, it’d only been a matter of time before William realized Alexander was still alive. William was powerful, but not enough to stop Caleb, and if he caused trouble later, Caleb could always come up with a more permanent solution. He’d bought his soul once, he could do it again.

Caleb was a little insulted, however, that the little band of merry men didn’t think Caleb would know they’d already projected into the club; Caleb _had_ taught William everything he knew, after all. 

Honestly, it was almost too easy. It certainly wasn’t much fun without more of a challenge. 

The only variable that made him. . . _apprehensive_ was the girl. By the time he’d signed the contract for Alexander’s soul and let William go, the girl had somehow already gotten his stamps off. And now she could _touch_ Reggie and Luke. That had introduced a particular uncertainty into the situation. The boys and their pet human were too powerful left unchecked. He’d tried to keep an eye on her when he could to see if she had discovered an ability to do anything else, but there were only so many things he could do by himself, and he didn’t trust anyone else with this. William had betrayed him, and he’d seen the look of pity in Dmitri’s eyes. No, this was something he had to do himself.

But it was no matter. Caleb was a collector, and he already had one piece of the set. He’d have the full collection soon enough.

He would have to. The boy was already weakening, pathetic creature that he was. Caleb would need the other two to complete his plans. But they’d fallen lock step into every trap he’d set, and it wouldn’t be long before they tried to storm the Club in a foolhardy rescue attempt. They’d be no match for Caleb on his own turf.

Yes, Caleb thought, things were looking up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments everyone! They mean so much to me.

When Willie opened his eyes, he was back in the garage, Alex’s bass drum sitting innocently in front of him. The band was all talking at the same time, voices rising to try to be heard over each other, but Willie just sat silently, tracing the drum pedal with his eyes and trying to catch his breath. Projecting three ghosts and a Lifer into the Club had taken a lot out of him, and seeing, however briefly, that Alex was in Caleb’s captivity had stolen away any mental energy he’d had left.

Despite everything Willie had done to prevent it, Alex had somehow ended up in Caleb’s power. Alex, who smiled so shyly at Willie, who’d forgiven Willie for his betrayal, who’d taken their last moment together to give Willie the best hug he’d ever had, living or not. _That_ same Alex was now under Caleb’s thumb.

For a second, Willie considered that Alex would have been better off if the jolts had killed him.

The yelling had become too hard to ignore. He opened his eyes to find the three of them pacing, distraught. “—but _how,”_ Reggie was saying, wringing his hands together. “We agreed to come back to the garage if we didn’t cross over. There was no sign of Caleb at the Orpheum. How did he manage to get Alex?”

“Alex went to him.” Luke said it quietly, sinking down onto the couch and not meeting any of their eyes. Julie wordlessly sat down next to him, rubbing his back. “He took Caleb’s deal. After we realized the Orpheum wasn’t our unfinished business, he must have gone back to the Club.” 

“But why would Alex do that?” Reggie stressed, skidding to a halt in front of Luke and Julie. “He wouldn’t. . .we’re family. He wouldn’t have saved himself and left us to die.”

“Maybe he didn’t.” Willie stood finally, shaking off the sleep in his limbs. They all whirled to look at him, hope on their faces. He crossed over to them. “Right before Caleb kicked me out, after you guys had gone to Julie at the Orpheum. . .he got a visit from someone. I don’t know who. But Caleb was _definitely_ going to turn me inside out before, and then not only did he let me go, but he gave me back my soul.”

“So what,” Julie asked, trying to follow everything. “You think Caleb made a deal with Alex? His soul in exchange for Willie’s—and you guys? So when the stamps lifted in the garage, that had nothing to do with me?”

They all turned to look at Willie again expectantly. “I don’t know. You guys have more powers than I’ve ever seen. I mean, you all can touch each other, and I don’t think that’s something Caleb can do. We’re kind of playing out of bounds here.”

“So what is he going to do with Alex?” Luke asked. “No offense to Alex, but it’s not much of a house band with just a drummer.” 

_Expansion plans,_ Shonda had said. Willie felt like throwing up. “I think. . .I think Caleb might be planning to do something really bad, and he’s going to use Alex to do it. Ghosts who work at the Club—ghosts whose souls Caleb owns—they don’t just work there. They _power_ the Club with their energy, their essence.”

“What are you saying?” 

“The kind of power you guys have, being able to be visible to Lifers, Caleb’s the only other ghost I’ve seen that can do that. But Caleb’s bound to the Club.” Willie paused, trying to come to terms with just how screwed they were. “But if he owns Alex’s soul, if he can tap it for force, well then. . . he might not be stuck in the Club anymore.”

Julie went pale. “So Caleb’s going to use Alex as a battery pack to steal souls all over Los Angeles.” 

Willie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but it makes sense.”

Reggie collapsed onto the couch on the other side of Julie. “Man, the future _sucks._ ”

“Yeah, that’s putting it lightly,” Luke said. “So what do we do now? How do we get Alex out of the Club?”

Willie wrapped his arms around himself. “I. . .I don’t know. The Hollywood Ghost Club puts Fort Knox to shame. To get in without an invitation and then back out with Alex? There’s a good chance none of us make it out.”

They all sat in silence, letting Willie’s words sink in. 

“What if. . .what if we brought him to us?” Julie said finally.

Willie looked at her. “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip. “Luke said it earlier—maybe the guy’s ability to summon their instruments works in reverse. We’ve all heard Alex when we were near the drums, and I _saw_ him when I was singing when I was cleaning them. Just for a second, but if we all played together—”

“We could bring him to us!” Luke said excitedly, jumping up. “Julie, that’s brilliant! You’re so smart, Jules.”

“So we’re gonna throw Alex a concert?” Reggie asked. “When, tonight?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “We have to save him as soon as possible.”

Willie shook his head. “No. Caleb is at his most powerful at night when the Club is full and he’s drawing energy off of people. We managed to do the projection unnoticed, but if Caleb catches us messing with his power source from Alex, he’ll stop us. We have to do it when he’s distracted.”

Luke sat back on the couch. “So when?” 

“Caleb takes a meeting every Wednesday morning,” Willie explained. “I don’t know what it is, but he’s never missed it since I’ve known him, and he leaves the Club to do it. We’ll do it then.”

“Can Alex make it that long?” Julie asked.

“Caleb needs Alex too much to let him die,” Willie said. “But we only have one shot at this. We don’t have a choice.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “In two days, we bring Alex home.”

~

Monday felt like an eternity.

With Julie gone at school (a faint cough tossed in Ray’s direction as she left, along with an _I might be coming down with a cold, Dad_ ), and Carlos and Ray absent too, Willie and Luke and Reggie were left to sit in the garage, watching the clock tick slowly down. He kept catching Luke eyeing his guitar when he thought the others weren’t looking, but Willie had shook his head; he’d meant it when he’d said they only had one shot at this before Caleb figured out what they were doing and stopped them. Willie halfheartedly put on a movie to continue their 21st century education, but it was clear none of them were paying attention. 

When the credits were rolling on _National Treasure,_ Willie sat up, feeling choked by the silence. “I’m going to go out for a little bit,” he said. “Get some air. Try to calm myself down a little.” 

Luke nodded. “Just be safe, man.” 

The echo rang in his ears as he teleported. For a split second, Willie had the urge to go to the Club, to beg Caleb to reverse the deal, to take Willie’s soul back in exchange for Alex. The knowledge that Alex had put himself in danger to save Willie sat sour in his gut, and Willie would do anything to make it right. But he also knew he had to play this smart. Caleb would never agree to a deal, because Alex offered Caleb opportunities that Willie couldn’t, and beyond anything else, Caleb was a pragmatist.

So instead, he headed to the same museum he’d taken Alex to what felt like decades ago. It was still closed for construction, and even though it was sunny outside, it felt much darker than the last time Willie had been there. That made sense, he supposed—he’d had a little piece of his own personal sunshine with him then. 

He sat down on the same bench he’d taught Alex to move and reached out to the tether tying him to Alex, poking at it like a bruise. He felt the same thing he had last time: a fluttering, gasping soul reaching back under a cloud of what he now recognized was the toxic energy of one of Caleb’s deals.

“We’re coming, Alex,” he said, trying to send as much comfort as he could down the line until the strain of keeping it running forced Willie to drop the connection.

He stayed there for a while, and before he left, Willie stood up and screamed out his anger in the exact spot he had last time. This time, though, with no scream echoing, it didn’t feel as cathartic. 

When he finally went back to the studio, Luke was gone. “To his parents,” Reggie said without Willie asking. He was laying down on the couch, plucking absently at his bass, but he shuffled down to make room for Willie when he approached. The second Willie sat down, Reggie put his bass down carefully and scooted back up, laying his head in Willie’s lap. Willie reached out and started running his hand through Reggie’s hair automatically. It felt good to be casually affectionate with people again.

“How am I supposed to not blame myself, Reggie?” he asked after a beat.

Reggie snorted, shifting until he was turned more sidewise so Willie could get more at his neck. Willie could feel the tension corded in his muscles. “Now I think you’re just fishing for compliments, man.” Willie pulled his hand away, and Reggie groaned. “Fine, _fine._ Dude, you play dirty. So tell me, Willie, were you twirling your mustache when you told Caleb ‘hey, I know a way I can pretend to be this guys’ friend so you can steal his soul?”

“Okay,” Willie said, laughing a little despite everything. “Point taken.” 

He continued rubbing at Reggie’s neck until he felt Reggie relax against him. “When you think about it,” Reggie said, voice heavy with sleep, “it’s way more Alex’s fault than yours.”

“What?” Willie asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Reggie murmured. “He knew what he was getting into with Caleb. We said we were going to stick together, and he _didn’t._ ”

Willie paused, pulling his hand back. Sure, it had been terrible to think Alex was dead, but Alex had done it to protect them. It was really hard to feel angry at Alex in this situation. “Reg, do you really mean that?” he finally asked.

In response, Reggie snored, deep in slumber. 

~

Tuesday was just as tense as the day before, and Willie, already on edge from their impending plan, didn’t bring up what Reggie had said the night before. Instead, they all tried to watch TV again, steadily ignoring the drum set waiting innocently in the corner. When Julie came home from school, they went to her room to plan; she’d told her Dad her throat was hurting and she needed a nap, so it wasn’t worth the risk to sneak out to the studio when they could easily go to her. 

It was the first time Willie had really been in her room, and it looked as exactly he would expect it to, purple and flowers everywhere. Julie, wrapped in a pink hoodie that looked incredibly familiar, was sitting at the head of her bed, Luke leaning against her. Reggie was curled up at the foot, and he patted the space next to him. Willie gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his shoes off before moving to sit cross-legged.

“Okay, welcome to the ‘save Alex from immortal peril meeting,’” Julie said, clearing her throat. “Um, I don’t really have an agenda—I thought we’d just go over the plan for tomorrow. To start, I think I’ve sold my Dad enough on the idea that I’m getting sick, so he should let me stay home tomorrow. Willie, is there anything else we should know?”

They all turned to look at him expectedly, and Willie felt like he was giving a class presentation. “Uh, not really?” he said. “I mean if we were going to face off against Caleb there would be, like, ghost defense 101 I’d want to show you, but we shouldn’t have to deal with him. Honestly, guys, like I said—I don’t really know how your whole thing works. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Well, I guess we just hope for the best,” Luke said. “What do you guys think we should play?”

“Nothing too complicated,” Reggie said. “I don’t think we’ll have the bandwidth for that.”

Julie nodded. “Makes sense. Why don’t we just. . .play D chords over and over again. And we can take turns singing—lyrics if we want, or messages to Alex.”

“And I’ll stand by, I guess,” Willie said, feeling a little awkward. Even if he had the same powers as the others, he didn’t know how to play any instruments, and the last time he’d sang in front of other people had been in his sixth grade musical. 

“Okay,” Julie said. “Let’s do this.”

Willie didn’t even bother trying to zone out that night. He was too worked up, his mind racing furiously. Normally he would deal with the panic by skating it out, but he was loath to be away from the garage and the others for too long. So instead, he sat in the yard, looking over the garden that one of the Molinas had obviously lovingly tended. Willie’s Mom had a black thumb—she’d killed four separate succulents in a six month span, once—and Willie had inherited that trait from her, but his Dad has always treated his rose bushes as if they were a second child. Willie wondered if his Dad still spent Saturday mornings tending them while his Mom watched with a cup of coffee.

Willie shoved away the sorrow that always came thinking of his parents and took a deep breath, centering himself. He had to focus on saving Alex for now. 

The next morning, Ray, after a lot of convincing that Julie was capable of heating up a can of soup for lunch, headed to a job, with Carlos getting on the bus to school soon after. They all headed to the studio, single file as if they were marching to war, which, Willie supposed, in a way they were. Silently, they all settled down at their instruments; Willie, unsure where to go, stood by the drum set. 

Even while only playing a single chord, the band played in perfect complement to each other, and Willie hoped, when all of this was over, he would get to hear them play for real. “Alex, Alex, we miss you,” Luke started off. “Alex, Alex, he likes boys and mint ice cream.” 

“Which is disgusting, Alex,” Reggie took over, strumming his bass. “The mint ice cream thing, I mean,” he sang. “Mint and dairy, _ew._ ”

“ _Which is not the point,_ ” Julie continued, glaring at them both. “Alex, we just want you back with us.”

“Yeah,” Luke and Reggie sang in harmony.

There was a flicker at the seat of the drums. Willie jerked his head around, seeing a flash of golden hair. “Keep going!” he shouted. “I think it’s working.”

“Alex, Alex, we love you,” Julie said. 

There was an _oomph,_ and Alex appeared, hunched over on the stool behind his drums. He flickered out and then back again, the same way he and the other boys had when they’d been fighting to escape Caleb’s stage to go to the Orpheum. Willie held his breath as the others kept singing. Alex was gasping, curled over his stomach, and underneath his golden skin, he looked green. He was still in the clothes he’d been in the night they’d played the Orpheum, but the jacket was gone, and the sheer shirt was stuck to him with sweat. 

He flickered out again, and the band looked at each other apprehensively. “Where are his drum sticks?” Willie asked, a realization dawning. “Alex’s part of the band too.” 

Luke was looking around the studio as he strummed his guitar frantically, but Willie saw the look Julie and Reggie exchanged. “I’ll be right back,” Reggie said, disappearing and taking his bass with him. It was only a second later that he returned, tossing the sticks at Willie as he somehow managed to play the bass with his other hand. Willie caught them, frowning; they were damp, and covered with what looked like dirt?

Willie stepped closer to the drums, and the next time Alex appeared, Willie shoved the sticks into his hands. 

Alex stopped flickering.

Alex groaned, hands shaking as he swiped at one of the toms. Willie shuffled around and wrapped his arms around Alex, propping him up. He shut his eyes for a second, blinking back tears, and squeezed Alex tighter.

Alex stiffened in his arms. “You don’t have to coddle me, Willie,” Alex said sharply, and Willie reeled, even as he clung to Alex to keep him from collapsing. The others stepped closer, crowding around the drum set; Julie’s keyboard made a screeching sound as she pushed it across the floor, and the chord connecting Reggie’s bass to the amp was straining.

“Alex, are you okay?” Julie asked, more spoken than sung.

“What are you idiots doing?” Alex gasped, glaring and managing to flick the Tom again. “Caleb’s going to be back any minute now.”

“We’re saving you, Alex,” Luke said, voice cracking a little. “Just focus on being back with us.” 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Alex said, wincing as his grip faltered. “Caleb only keeps his end of the deal if I stay with him.”

Willie froze, ears ringing. If it were up to him, he’d make that trade in a heartbeat, but Reggie’s and Luke’s souls were at stake as well. . .

By the looks on their faces, the others had come to the same realization. “We don’t _care,_ ” Reggie said, eyes red. “We’ll figure it out together. Come home.”

Willie, with his chest pressed against Alex’s back, could feel the deep breath Alex took. As if Willie could see the future, he knew exactly what Alex was about to do. “Alex, no, please,” he begged.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, dropping his drumsticks, and when Willie blinked again, Alex was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much everyone for the comments!!!! i literally read them all multiple times. apologies for any typos--irl is NUTS right now, so this chapter was a little rushed. speaking of, i'm working this weekend, so while i'm going to do my very best to get the next chapter out monday, it may be delayed.

“I’m going to _kill_ him.” 

Luke’s angry voice was the first thing she registered after the shock of Alex appearing—and then _disappearing—_ had somewhat faded. She stared at the vacant stool behind the bass drum. It was close enough to touch—Alex had been right _there—_ and, once again, it was empty. She understood Luke’s frustration. She was really tired of Alex disappearing in front of her eyes.

“Hard to do that when he’s already dead,” Reggie joked weakly. She looked over at him; Reggie was curled in on himself, as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Once she was aware enough to check on her boys who were actually _here,_ Julie’s eyes flickered from Luke and Reggie to Willie, still standing behind Alex’s stool. He was hugging himself, thumb stroking the opposite elbow absentmindedly, and his lip was turning red from how hard he was biting it. He was staring intently at something on the floor, not meeting anyone’s eyes—he was looking at Alex’s fallen drumsticks, Julie realized. Unlike Luke, who had thrown down his guitar with the least care Julie had ever seen from him and was now pacing angrily around, or Reggie, who’d collapsed on the couch, looking like he was about five seconds away from breaking down, Willie was staring completely still, not moving except for the small swish of his thumb against his sweatshirt. 

“Willie,” Julie said, carefully stepping back behind the kit. She paused, trying to figure out which of her many questions to ask first, and desperately wishing she could lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, since neither Luke or Reggie seemed to have noticed how red Willie’s eyes were getting. “Are you okay?” she finally settled on.

“ _Shh,_ ” Willie hushed her. She took a step backwards in shock, but Willie, still staring at the floor, shook his head. “Sorry—just, give me a sec.”

He closed his eyes tightly, and as Julie waited, Luke and Reggie seemed to snap out of whatever mode they were in, coming up to stand beside her. Without thinking, she took their hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. She could feel how clammy Reggie’s were, and how Luke’s were shaking.

“Sorry,” Willie said again when he finally opened his eyes. He was blinking rapidly, but despite his best efforts, a few errant tears slid down his cheek. “I was checking the tether between me and Alex to make sure he’s still there.”

“And?” Julie asked breathlessly. 

“He is,” Willie nodded in confirmation. “But he must have figured out how it works, because he’s pushing me away _hard._ ”

“Of course he is,” Luke said, dropping Julie’s hand in favor of stalking around the studio again. “Because it’s Alex, and he’s the most stubborn asshole on Earth when he really gets an idea into his head.” 

Julie winced, but didn’t try to argue with him. Luke clearly was in too much of a temper to listen, and besides, he wasn’t totally wrong, even if Julie wouldn’t have put it quite that harshly. Instead, she turned to Willie and Reggie. “So what do we do now?”

Willie sighed, stepping out from behind from the kit to join them. As he did, he bent down, picking up the drum sticks and wiping them clean on his shirt. Julie bit her lip; now didn’t seem like the time to confess it was grave dirt covering them. Once they were apparently clean to Willie’s satisfaction, Willie carefully laid them on the stool. Up close, he looked even worse than he had before: he was shaking a little, and there was a sheen of sweat on his head. Julie ached to touch him. “I have no idea. If he’s blocking me, he can probably block you too; we can’t summon him back unless he _wants_ to come back.”

“So we go to the Club and penguin march him home,” Luke said, having calmed down a little now that they were working on a plan.

Julie’s heart clenched. She wanted Alex safe and home as much as any of them, but— “What about what he said? That Caleb would revoke his deal if Alex escapes? Willie would go back to being his prisoner, and you and Reggie could disappear. Not to mention Alex himself.” 

Willie bit his lip. “Caleb—he’s powerful, but he’s also a really good liar. He definitely could have lied to Alex.”

“That’s a big _if,_ ” Reggie said.

“So what?” Luke asked desperately. “We’re back to where we started? We just leave Alex with Caleb?” 

“No one’s saying that,” Julie corrected him quickly. “But going in without a plan and getting yourselves killed, along _with_ Alex, kind of defeats the point of saving him.”

“We saw the stamps lift disappear when you hugged us,” Luke argued. “I felt so much better after, and we can touch you now. There’s no way that was Caleb’s doing.” 

“Maybe,” Reggie hedged. “But what about Willie?”

Willie held up a hand. “I risked my soul for Alex before. I’m okay with that—”

“—but we’re not.” Julie interrupted. “We took the risk last time, but Caleb knows for sure you’re helping us now. We’ll figure something else out.”

“Like what?” Willie asked, sounding desperate.

“Like—” Julie paused, thinking. How was she supposed to know? She was a teenager. Before her Mom had died, her biggest concern had been how to clean the rug before her parents found out after she’d dropped a slice of pizza on it.

Cleaning. Wait.

“Maybe I can lift Willie’s stamp too!” she rushed out, feeling more optimistic now that she had a plan. But it faded a little as she saw Willie looking hesitant. 

Luke, however, was bouncing more than she was. “Julie, that’s brilliant!” 

“. . .Okay,” Willie said finally. “How did it work the first time?”

“We don’t have to try if you don’t want to,” she said. 

He shook his head. “No, if there’s a way I can be free from Caleb’s hold I definitely want that. But. I just don’t want to get my hopes up, is all.”

“Okay,” she said, “Um, last time I went to hug Luke without thinking. So we can try that? I guess.” 

He stepped forward cautiously, and Julie took a deep breath. She pulled up her arms, moving to circle them around Willie. _If there’s a higher power out there,_ she thought, _please let this work._ If she couldn’t save Alex, she’d be damned if she let Willie be hurt too.

Her arms went straight through him, smacking into each other behind Willie’s back. She stumbled, taking a step forward to regain her balance, and she could feel the unpleasant coldness as she inadvertently walked through him and nearly fell flat on her face. It would have been funny, she thought as she turned to face the boys, if she didn’t feel so much like crying. 

“It’s okay,” Willie reassured her. “It’s not your fault.” And the worst part was, he did look fine with it. He’d said he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but now he seemed more concerned with making sure Julie wasn’t upset. He’d been so okay with risking himself for Alex, too—the two of them were certainly a pair. “I know I’m not Alex.”

“No, _no,_ ” she said, trying to disabuse him of that notion as fast possible. “We love you too, Willie. I just don’t know how I did it last time, or it’s because I’m connected to Reggie and Luke through the band, or—”

“You love me?” Willie said quietly.

“Of course we do,” she reassured him. 

“Yeah, man,” Luke said, swinging an arm around Willie’s neck and _finally_ pulling him in for a hug. “You’re a Phantom now. No refunds.” 

“He means phantom like Julie and the Phantoms,” Reggie said, hugging Willie from the other side and pulling Julie toward him until she was smashed in between him and Luke. “Not like a ghost phantom, ‘cuz you already were that. A ghost, I mean.” 

Willie laughed, and no one pointed out it was a little wet-sounding. “Thanks Reg.” 

They stood there for a moment, and, like the last time they’d hugged like this, Julie felt Alex’s absence keenly. And this time, at least they knew Alex was alive, and Willie was here, but—

“What do we do about Alex?” she asked, hating to ruin the moment, but feeling antsy with the unanswered elephant in the room.

They all looked at each other, silent. It was clear no one knew either.

“Okay.” Julie took a deep breath. “Let’s. . .just take some time to regroup. We’ll figure something out.”

No one said anything, but it was clear they were all thinking the same thing: judging by the state Alex had been in, they might not have long.

~

When Julie’s Dad came home, she didn’t have to pretend to not be feeling well. 

She and the boys had spent the afternoon tossing around ideas, but they’d all been shot down for one reason or another. Too dangerous, too impossible, too low of a chance of actually working. They had no way to rescue Alex, no way to make sure Willie was safe. Julie had called a recess after a few hours of no progress; the boys had scattered to different locations to take a break, and now Julie was curled up in bed with a pounding headache, feeling hopeless in a way she hadn’t since her Mom had died.

“Hi mija,” Ray called, standing in her doorway and knocking on the frame. “I brought you some soup from Flannigan’s. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she said. The last thing she needed was for Dad to cotton on to the fact that something was _really_ wrong.

But her Dad, for all that he seemed to easily accept that Julie had somehow started a super-technological band with boys on the other side of the world, was still a Dad. He came and sat down on the edge of the bed, and she stared down at the pillow so she wouldn’t have to see the concern in his eyes. He ran a hand on her back just like Mom used to do, and that was all it took: Julie was crying whether she wanted to or not.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Ray hummed. “Let it out.”

When she finally quieted down, Julie had to admit she felt better, even if her nose was now caked in snot. Without a word, Ray slid off the bed; she heard the tap running in the bathroom, and before she knew it, he was back, running a cool washcloth over her face. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna make me?”

He laughed. “I mean, no, that seems a little counterproductive, but I am pretty concerned about why you’re faking sick so you can cry in the middle of the day.” She opened her mouth, trying to figure out what to say, and shut it again. Ray chuckled. “Your old man’s not as dumb as you think, huh?”

She sighed, burying her head into his hip. “Sorry Papi,” she said. “I’m really not feeling well. I just. . .it’s everything with Alex. I don’t know what to do.”

“Your friend whose parents punished him for being gay?” She nodded. “Did you manage to get in touch with him?”

“We did.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “We figured out a way for him to rejoin the band, but. . .he doesn’t want to do it. He’s afraid he’ll get us all in trouble.” There. She wasn’t even technically lying.

“Hmm.” Ray sat silent, but kept stroking her back. “That’s a hard situation.”  
  
“Yeah.” She laughed bitterly. Hard was an understatement. “We want to help him, and he won’t let us. And I’m just. . .frustrated, with him, and mad at this whole thing, and I don’t know what to do. We just wanted to be a band. It’s not fair.”

He nodded. “You’ve had a lot of unfair things happen to you recently, mija, and I wish I couldn’t say that.” He stopped for a second, and finally said, “I don’t have to tell you that some things in life don’t have an easy answer. All I know is that, if you love someone, sometimes it’s worth fighting for them even if they don’t want you too.”

She sat up, giving him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight, and it made her feel a pang of sadness again at failing to touch Willie. “Thanks, Papi.”

(After her Dad finally went back to his office, she snuck downstairs and ate the soup, comforted by the fact that, despite everything else that was happening, she had people who loved her.)

~

She was back in bed, actually trying to go to sleep this time, when the boys poofed in her room. “What?” she asked sleepily, sitting up and trying to figure out what was going on. Reggie was nearly frog marching Willie, and Julie could see Reggie’s nails digging into Willie’s arm. Reggie looked genuinely _angry,_ face red and flushed. That was disconcerting; even when Reggie had found out they’d given Indiana Jones a son, he’d been more cranky than anything. 

“Reggie, come on, I said I was _sorry,_ ” Willie was saying, looking like a puppy with his tail tucked between his legs.

Luke was trailing behind them, looking as bewildered as Julie felt. He shrugged at her. “They came back to the studio like this. Reggie wouldn’t tell me what was up—he said we had to come up here first.” 

“I was just—” Willie started, but Reggie cut him off. 

“I caught him trying to sneak into the Club!” Reggie yelled. Julie winced, glad the rest of her family couldn’t hear them talking. Then she realized what Reggie had said. She turned to Willie. “Is that true?”

He winced. “I was just. . .scouting out the place. Trying to see if I could figure out what Caleb’s up to.”

She could hear her Mom’s voice as clear as day: _I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed._ She bit her tongue to keep from saying it.

Luke apparently wasn’t having any issues. He looked so sad, seeing him was probably worse than anything Caleb could do to Wille. “Dude, _why_? We agreed we weren’t gonna do anything until we came with a plan.”

“Because Alex’s stupidity is contagious,” Reggie muttered. He was still holding on to Willie’s arm, but his grip had relaxed, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern.

Willie hung his head. “I’m sorry. I’m so glad I’m here with you guys, and I don’t want to go back to Caleb, I really don’t, but I’m not going to be able to be at peace until I know Alex is okay. Regardless of whether I knew what Caleb was going to do, I still played a part in Alex ending up there. And I . . .can’t live with that and do nothing.” 

Willie was certainly a stand up guy, Julie thought. Although, she doubted he’d be going to the same lengths if it was Luke or Reggie with Caleb.

When Alex came back, she was going to tease him _relentlessly_ about Wille’s never-ending heart eyes. It was the least he deserved after the stunt Alex had pulled.

“Okay, but none of us are saying that,” Luke was saying, hands pinwheeling in the air in emphasis. “If you think that going to the Club will help—then okay. But Reggie and I will go with you. Strength in numbers.”

“The Club is warded heavily against other ghosts. I _might_ be able to get in because I know the way the place is warded, but you and Reggie wouldn’t be able to get through the defenses.”

“What about non-ghosts?” Julie asked, something clicking into place in her mind. 

Willie shook his head, dark hair flying. “No. _No._ Bad idea. There’s no telling what Caleb would do if he found an uninvited Lifer in his Club.”

Julie seized on his moment of hesitation as Luke and Reggie looked at each other uneasily. “So it’s possible for me to get in the Club.”

“Technically, it’s hidden from view for Lifers, so all the defenses are targeted at keeping ghosts from teleporting in. But I cannot stress just how bad of an idea that would be.”

“When has that ever stopped anyone here?” Reggie said. 

Julie tossed a pillow at him. “Willie,” she said, turning her focus. “You’re so willing to risk yourself for Alex. Don’t you think we’d do the same?”

Willie bit his lip, not saying anything, and that’s how Julie knew she’d won.

“Okay, but what happens when Caleb shows up and says ‘hey, where are you going with my nuclear reactor?’ Caleb took us to the Club the night of the Orpheum like it was nothing. We can’t fight him.” Reggie frowned. “Man, we could really use Bobby. Bobby was the plan guy.”

“. . .The plan guy?” Julie repeated.

“Yeah. Luke was the charmer of Sunset Curve, I was the optimism, Bobby came up with the plans, and Alex told him they weren’t practical and would backfire. It worked.”

Luke coughed pointedly. “Except for the few occasions when Alex decided what was practical and best for everyone was in reality _completely idiotic,_ like when he decided we should get matching hair cuts for the band brand, or when we should strike because our school stopped serving tator tots, or, oh, I don’t know, when he sold his soul to a meglomaniac without talking to us first.” 

Julie sighed, shutting her eyes and pinching her nose. Forget Caleb; she might kill the boys first.

“. . .I can teach you to fight,” Willie said.

“No offense man, but I already have a pretty mean right hook,” Luke said. 

“No, I mean—ghost fighting. How to leverage your powers. I couldn’t take on Caleb directly, but maybe with the three of us together, plus whatever Julie’s abilities are. . .”

“We could take Caleb down for good.” Luke was grinning now.

“Like the A Team,” Reggie said, a smile on his face too.

“Okay, _okay,_ ” Julie said, but even she could hear the hope in her voice. “We’ll figure out how to play superhero tomorrow. Unlike you guys, I have to actually sleep.”

“Right. Night, Julie,” Willie said, waving before disappearing. 

“Oh, no way am I letting him out of my sight after what he just did,” Reggie said. “Sweet dreams Julie! I have to go baby sit.”

Reggie vanished just as quickly, leaving her and Luke alone. She could feel heat rushing to her cheeks—she was alone, in her bedroom, with a boy she liked, in her pajamas. Sure, her pajamas was an America Chavez onesie, but. . .

Luke sat down on her bed, and Julie discretely tried to check her breath. 

“I’m sorry for being so mad with everyone earlier,” Luke said, and oh, this was not that kind of visit at all. Staring into his eyes, Julie had almost forgotten everything that was going on. Luke made her stupid, Flynn would no doubt say. “My relationship with my parents has always been complicated, you know that, but not with Alex and Reggie. They’re my family. But I care about you too. I don’t want you to be in danger.” He swallowed, looking straight at her. “I know you’ll probably punch me for even saying this, but is there any way I can convince you to stay here while we do this?”

She rolled her eyes, giving him a _look._ “Not a chance. Alex is my family too, remember?”

Luke laughed. “That’s what I thought. So we’re going to fight Caleb?”

“Yeah.” 

“This is going to end _so_ badly.”

“Yeah,” she repeated, but they were both grinning at each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> four determined people with no braincells and the power of friendship vs a plan that has a high chance of failure: who will win?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. This is a little rushed, but I was determined to get back on my regular posting schedule, and I made it by about eleven minutes! I'm so sorry I haven't replied to comments yet-IRL is literally insane at the moment-but I appreciate them all so much and I will reply as soon as I'm able (and also fix the inevitable SPAG errors this chapter is bound to have). On that note, I'm finally moving this weekend, so I may have to skip another week--I'm really excited about the next few chapters, though, so I'm going to do my best to keep on schedule. Life pro tip: never, ever move, and just die in the house you were born in (or just hire someone to move the heavy stuff for you, but that doesn't vibe with the grey gardens image I'm going for.)

“Man, _boo_ xing class was rough,” Reggie said, collapsing on the couch. “I’m beat.”

“Boo to that joke,” Julie said, panting as she took a long swig of water.

Willie had put them through their paces. He wasn’t a bad teacher if he said so himself—if he could show cousin Andrew, who could fall sitting down, how to skate, explaining the push pull of paranormal abilities was nothing—but they were working with a time crunch. He’d taught them more in two days than he’d taken two months to learn: all manners of shields, how to maneuver other ghosts, how to affect physical objects from a distance. Reggie and Luke had picked up the basics pretty quickly, but Willie was still worried; he could probably fight them together and win, and he had nothing on Caleb.

Julie was the wild card. Willie’s tricks weren’t helpful for dealing with Lifers—he could barely push a Lifer forward with his hand, and that took an amount of energy that would leave him laid up for a week. Willie wasn’t unique in that regard; he’d been one of the more powerful ghosts at the HGC, but even Caleb himself could only really mess with Lifers if they were in the Club. The same had held true for Julie: he’d been able to budge the flower pin on her jacket, barely, and Luke and Reggie hadn’t even managed that without being able to physically touch her. 

But the shock had come when Reggie, playfully trying to tug her forward with his new found abilities, had been thrown clear across the room. Everyone had frozen, and Reggie, groaning as he sat up slowly, threw Luke the bird. “Dude, I was only teasing. You didn’t have to come for me that hard.”

But Luke had looked as confused as the rest of them. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

Willie’s focus moved from Luke on one side of the room to Reggie on the other, and, as his gaze was shifting, he saw Julie, who had been _so_ close to Reggie, blushing furiously. “Julie?” Willie said disbelievingly. 

“I’m _so_ sorry Reggie,” Julie rushed out, hands pinwheeling madly as she rushed over to help him up. “I just thought it would be fun to push back a little! I didn’t know it would hit you that hard.”

Willie could see the irritation drain out of Reggie. “No worries, Julie. Good perk of being a ghost: you don’t have to worry about accidentally breaking our necks! Right, Willie?” Reggie turned, beaming, apparently not realizing how morbid his attempt at reassurance was. 

“Yeah. . .” Willie said, trying to figure out how to word his growing apprehension. “But a Lifer shouldn’t be able to move a ghost at _all_.”

“Of course Julie’s special. I mean, have you heard her sing?” Luke asked, as if that was a reason Julie was regularly able to break all laws governing the relationships between life and death. Maybe it was. 

Julie shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe it’s just my connection with the guys,” she offered, wringing her hands. “I probably couldn’t do it to anyone else.”

“Try me,” Willie said, bracing himself. It still stung a little that, no matter how the others had reassured Willie they cared about him, Julie’s _saving-the-world-with-the-power-friendship_ abilities didn’t extend to him. But here was a silver lining, he supposed. 

Julie closed her eyes and squinted. Nothing happened, and Willie felt himself relax, only to be slammed with a force the likes of which he’d never felt before. It was much cooler than magic from other ghosts usually felt, with none of the usual accompanying pins and needles, but it was also _stronger_ than anything Willie had ever experienced, save for maybe Caleb. Willie felt himself thrown back, and it took everything in him to not end up flattened against the wall next to Reggie. 

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Willie said faintly, trying not to fall where he stood.

After some trial and error, Julie’s abilities seemed to come and go with no real rhyme or reason. One second she was throwing ghosts across the room; the next she could barely push a pencil. Julie’s abilities made no sense with everything Willie knew about ghosts, but neither did her being able to see them, or touch Reggie and Luke, or being able to make them visible when singing. 

Wille was more comfortable with life’s big mysteries than most people, but this made even him nervous. 

Which led to now, with Telepathy 101 being disbanded for the day. Her breath having slowed down to a normal pace, Julie finally sat up. “So how are we going to do this?”

“We have to get Caleb out from the Club, first of all,” Willie explained. “He’s got home field advantage, there—he draws energy from both the Club itself and the ghosts whose souls he owns.”

“We could do it during his super secret Wednesday meeting,” Reggie suggested.

Willie shook his head. He’d had a lot of time to think about this in the past few hours since Reggie had caught him trying to sneak out. “No, it has to be somewhere we control everything. We need him distracted so he doesn’t go back to the Club and we have time to get Alex clear.”

“So, what, then?” Luke asked. 

“Caleb’s one weakness is his vanity. He always thinks he has the upper hand—because he usually _does,_ ” Willie explained. “But maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

“He probably knows we know about Alex, though,” Julie reminded them.

“What if that’s our excuse?” Reggie said, tapping his chin in thought. “He knows we’d do anything to get Alex back. Maybe if Luke and I could meet him somewhere on a neutral ground and distract him long enough by talking about joining his band. . .”

“. . .and then Willie and I can break Alex free,” Julie finished seamlessly. “Once we have Alex safe, we can all retreat and figure out how to take on Caleb.”

Willie bit his lip. “It’s not a bad idea,” he conceded, “but splitting up is going to be really dangerous.”

“Do we have any other option?”

They argued back and forth, but there didn’t seem to be a more viable plan. They finally decided that Luke and Reggie would try to meet Caleb on Sunday morning—after a weekend of high-powered shows, that was when the ghosts at the Club were the weakest. With the sun setting and a plan in place, however shaky, Julie headed back inside for dinner, and Luke went to take a shower in the studio’s bathroom. Ghosts didn’t really have any lasting sweat or smells, but with the way Luke kept sniffing at his armpits, it seemed pointless to argue. 

Left alone with Reggie, Willie began to fidget. Reggie hadn’t really acted differently since last night—he’d been his usual happy, jokey self all day—but the night before was burned on Willie’s mind. He only grew more nervous when Reggie turned and looked straight at him. “Hey Willie, can I talk to you for a second?” Reggie asked.

The others had all made very good points about not rushing in without a plan to save Alex, but Willie hadn’t really been acting on logic. All he’d been able to think about was Alex in Caleb’s clutches, being slowly drained to funnel whatever Caleb’s plan was while Willie sat around twiddling his thumbs. Willie had been the only one to _touch_ Alex in the brief moment they’d had to talk to him; he’d felt the clamminess of his skin, the hitch in his breath. He’d thought about Alex jerking away from him, and had been outside the Club before he knew it. In retrospect, it was a good thing Reggie had seen him leave; Willie would have definitely gotten himself killed, or worse. But Reggie had been so angry—even more so than when Willie had told them what the stamps did. Reggie’s—and Luke and Julie’s—friendship had become so important to Willie in the short time he’d known them. He wanted to save Alex, but he also didn’t want to lose his new family. 

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you yesterday,” Reggie said, shuffling his feet as he stared at the floor. He was doing the kicked puppy impression quite well.

“No, it’s okay, Reg,” Willie reassured him. “I shouldn’t have gone alone. I just . . .” Willie swallowed. “I haven’t had people to watch my back in a while, ya know?” 

Reggie looked up at him finally, reaching up to grab Willie’s shoulders. “Well, you do now. And as much as I want Alex safe—I don’t want you to get hurt in the process. That’s why I was so mad. I know we’re taking a risk now, but we’re doing it together. It’s _different_ ,” Reggie stressed. Wille nodded at him to show he understood. “And Willie?”

“Yeah, Reggie?” 

“If you see any pizza there, can you grab us some?”

~

Friday went largely the same way: training the boys during the day, and then more training and refining the plan after Julie got home from school. The guys were getting better, and Julie slowly seemed to be getting a grasp on how to activate her powers. By the time Saturday approached, Willie was feeling more confident that maybe this wouldn’t end up with them all dying at Caleb’s hands. 

They turned in early Saturday night, trying to get as much as rest as possible before the big day. Willie’s mind wouldn’t calm down, though, and eventually he retired to the porch, sitting in the dark. He bounced his foot, unable to keep still; he didn’t think it was possible for ghosts to throw up from nerves, but it seemed like tonight he might find out. 

“Looking for more late night philosophy debates?” a teasing voice said. Willie turned; it was dark enough that it took him a minute to recognize it was Julie, who was now blushing furiously. “Sorry, I thought you were Luke.”

Willie laughed, nodding to the empty step beside him. She sat down. “Hopefully I’m a decent substitute.”

“You’re less annoying, that’s for sure,” Julie said, but he could hear the affection in her voice. “You ready for tomorrow?” she asked, then winced. “Sorry, I guess that’s kind of a dumb question.”

He laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I want to get Alex out of there, and then I never want to go back to that Club again. If I don’t see Caleb again for the rest of eternity, it will be too soon.”

Julie hummed. She put a hand out as if to stroke him on the shoulder, and then pulled back at the last second. Willie appreciated it. If he had to watch her sink through him again, he might actually start screaming. “It must have been hard; being Caleb’s prisoner for so long.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But we’ll get Alex back; don’t worry.”

“No, I meant—” She bit her lip. “I meant _you_ , Willie. You were with him a long time, right?”

“Almost three years,” he said quietly. “But Julie; it’s completely different. I _chose_ to join Caleb, of my own free will. I didn’t question him or anything; I just. . .followed him, with my eyes wide open.”

“I can’t believe that.” Willie went to protest, but Julie raised a hand to silence him. “The second you found out what Caleb was really doing, what he was really capable of, you didn’t hesitate to help Alex and the boys. You’re a good person, Willie, and Caleb took advantage of that.”

Willie didn’t argue; he had a feeling Julie would accept his guilt about as much as Reggie had. Instead, he asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he’d felt Alex jerk away when Willie had wrapped his arms around Alex. “Do you think Alex hates me?"

"What? _No._ ” Julie said emphatically. “Willie, don’t be stupid. Alex lo—really, _really_ cares about you. Not to mention, you’re about to stage a very heroic rescue. You’re a literal knight in shining knee pads.”

“I don’t feel very heroic,” he said quietly. “I know what I said about joining Caleb of my own volition, but. I’m scared, Julie.”

Julie didn’t respond immediately, and Willie focused on slowing his breath and listening to the chirp of the crickets, rather than thinking about just how powerful Caleb was. “Willie, you can stay here,” she finally said. “We can do this without you.”

 _This girl._ No wonder Alex and the others had fought so hard to decline Caleb’s offer. If Julie were anything less than such an almost literal angel, she would be terrifying. She’d blow Caleb out of the water. 

The thing was, despite Julie’s offer, they had no chance of success without Willie. Willie was the only one who knew the ins and outs of the Club, who had a prayer of a chance at getting them out alive. 

Willie had spent his life and afterlife doing crazy stunts without a thought: skating down flights of stairs, skydiving, swimming as far out into the ocean as he could. But that made him an adrenaline junkee, that didn’t make him _brave._ Willie had always been a coward where it counted: he’d never seen his parents after he died, never questioned Caleb’s motives, never told Alex how he really felt. 

Alex, though. Alex and Julie and Reggie and Luke made him want to be brave. 

“Let’s go kick Caleb’s ass,” Willie said, grinning. 

~

Sunday morning dawned bright and early, with Julie sneaking out before Ray and Carlos were even up. “We’re working on a group project at the library,” Julie said, gesturing at Flynn as they met her in the driveway. Willie raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Julie said. “She’s smarter than all of you combined. We can use her help.”

“Hey guys,” Flynn said, waving in the complete wrong direction.

They took a bus to a stop a few blocks from the Club. The one thing Willie did _not_ miss about being alive was having to depend on public transportation, but Julie and Flynn had to get there the old fashioned way, and Willie knew none of them felt comfortable leaving the Lifers on their own. Luke was bouncing his leg restlessly while Reggie was eerily quiet; Flynn tried to make idle small talk, but everyone was so nervous it would have fallen flat even if someone else other than Julie had been able to respond.

When they went as far as they could without splitting up, everyone stopped to take a deep breath. “Be careful, Jules,” Luke said, standing very close to Julie as he reached out and stroked her cheek, the rest of them obviously forgotten. Willie cleared his throat uncomfortably, and they jumped back from each other. “And uh, you, Willie. And Flynn.” 

“Sure,” Willie said, pumping his eyebrows. Reggie had been right; it was fun to tease them, even if he really didn’t mind. He’d always had a soft spot for puppy love.

Reggie and Luke vanished in the direction of the Club while Willie and the girls hung back nervously. The plan was to give them ten minutes to find Caleb and take him to an abandoned building a few blocks away to “talk” before the others tried to sneak in. Willie nervously followed the seconds on his watch as they counted down, and when it was finally time, Willie led Julie and Flynn to a section in the back alley where, with Caleb gone, they could probably sneak in undetected. “We’re going to be running our own Ocean’s 8 soon enough,” Flynn muttered as she pulled herself over the fence, Willie watching anxiously for anyone coming by.

Once she had touched down on the ground, Flynn took a step back, blinking. “Everything okay?” Julie asked. 

Willie answered instead, grinning madly. He’d gotten so used to being able to talk with Julie he’d forgotten this part. “We’re in the Club now. She can see me.”

Julie whipped around to look at Flynn, who whistled. “Are there _any_ ugly ghosts?”

Julie snorted, and then clapped a hand over her mouth as the sound echoed throughout the courtyard.

Even though Willie had expected the Club to be empty—no one really stayed around on Sundays—it was still eerie. Willie was used to the Club being full of people, living or not, and bright lights and color. Now, it was dim with the lights off and no music in the air. As they crept through the deserted hallways, the building felt, ironically, _haunted._

Turning the hallway that led to the back room where Willie thought Alex was being held, he froze. There was a clattering sound in the distance, and Willie shoved them towards a storage closet, the girls trying to be quiet and failing very badly. They froze, crouching amidst the brooms and cleaning supplies, as the footsteps drew closer.

“—in a hurry,” a voice said. It sounded like Erica, the woman who helped move the Club to different cities and one of Caleb’s right hand minions. “I think he finally might have wrote a check he can’t cash.”

“ _Please,_ ” whoever was with Erica laughed. Matt, one of the kitchen workers, maybe. “I’d like to see the person stupid enough to try to collect Caleb’s debts.”

As the conversation faded away, Willie finally relaxed, convinced that, for now at least, they were safe. He stuck his head through the door to make sure the others were well and truly gone, and, when he confirmed the coast was clear, gestured for Flynn and Julie to follow him back into the hall. They continued uninterrupted until they made it to the end of the hall. Willie took a deep breath and turned the handle; the Hollywood Ghost Club had no need for something as plebeian as door locks.

Even though it was nearly pitch black in the room, Willie was immediately drawn to the chaise lounge in the corner. It was as if a siren was calling him. And in a way, Willie supposed, it was: on the chaise was Alex, looking pale and skeletal and _here_ and _beautiful._ Willie was at his side in an instance, only barely paying attention to Flynn and Julie following behind him.

Alex’s eyes shot open and he gasped, arm shooting out to grab weakly onto Willie’s wrist. “You have to get out of here, _now,_ ” he wheezed. “Caleb knows you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally everyone: Willie, you're amazing!
> 
> Willie: Sounds fake but okay.
> 
> [Please comment?](https://media0.giphy.com/media/QsykxKtBgxG4L8eoht/giphy.gif)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re in double digit chapters y’all! also, i think ghosts actually can touch humans while they’re in the HGC, but shh we’re ignoring that for the melodrama potential. also, welcome to timelines: where the dates are made up and the rules don't matter! apologies for any typos; i wanted to go ahead and get this out of the way. 
> 
> heads up that there is some violence in this chapter and the next; nothing i would consider at all graphic, but more violent than our targeted-to-kids source material. i’d say pg-13, probably?
> 
> thank you so so much for the comments. it's been a shit week and i've had major imposter syndrome lately both in fandom and irl, and y'all don't know how much they mean to me.
> 
> im slowly revamping my tumblr, so i'm somewhat active again besides queuing a bunch of stuff: im ohlafraise.

So Julie could move things with her mind. That wasn’t really that big of a deal, except her parents had _really_ undersold the changes that came with puberty.

“This is a huge deal,” Flynn said.

Julie sighed, leaning back on the bench. School had let out for the weekend, and she was supposed to be heading home for _boo_ t camp, as Reggie had so artfully named it, but instead she had hung back to talk with Flynn. They were sprawled under the trees in the courtyard; the branches were beginning to show hints of budding blooms, and Julie could smell spring in the air. She missed her Mom with a fleeting sharpness; this had always been her favorite time of year.

Flynn knocked her knee against Julie’s. “Seriously. First you can see ghosts, and then you can make them visible and touch them; now you’re a telepath? Got any other super powers I don’t know about?”

“Technically, moving things with your mind is telekinesis. Reading other people’s thoughts is telepathy,” Julie corrected. Reggie had gone on a ten minute soapbox about the difference, once he had recovered from Julie tossing him into the garage wall. 

“Okay, Jean Grey,” Flynn said, rolling her eyes before her expression dropped into her _I’m going to ask about how you’re dealing with your Mom’s tragically young death_ face. “How’re you doing with all of this though, on a shock scale of ‘the cafeteria switched from Coke to Pepsi’ to ‘my best friend has joined a ghost band?’”

Julie swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “I mean, after all of the crazy stuff that’s happened in the past few months, this is hardly the weirdest, I guess. I’m just glad I might be able to help the boys take out Caleb.”

Flynn pursed her lips. “About that. . . Are you sure we can trust this Willie guy? I mean, he did work for Caleb, after all. And he’s leading you straight to his lair.”

Julie shook her head. She could understand how Flynn thought that from the outside: it _was_ awfully convenient that Willie had appeared right after they’d gotten the stamps off the boys. But besides all the times he’d risked his safety to help them, Julie knew better. She’d seen how generally enthusiastic Willie had been trying to teach Carlos to skate, how eager he’d been to show the boys how to use their ghostly powers to defend themselves, how gentle he was with her.

How devastated he’d been when he’d found out Alex hadn’t returned from the Orpheum. 

“I’m sure. Willie’s a good guy who got caught up in something bad. I think you’d really like him, actually. He’d totally be down to drink his body weight in soda if he could.”

“Maybe once we rescue your boy I can meet him properly.”

“Wait, we?”

Flynn rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I’m going to let you do this on your own?”

“Flynn. . .” Of course she wanted Flynn by her side. But this was going to be dangerous, and Julie couldn’t ask that of her. 

“Please. You and I have always done everything together. I’m not letting you change that deal on me now. Plus? You’re crazy if you think I’m not going to be filming all of this. My GoPro’s all ready. This will make a great marketing campaign one day.” 

She jumped up and pulled Flynn into a tight hug, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you.”

Flynn laughed. “I love you too, but don’t think I’m not going to be making you do my chemistry homework for a month after this.”

~

Julie was exhausted after Willie released them from training that night, but her mind wouldn’t shut up long enough for her to go to sleep. She’d been slowly fighting out how to use her powers; she still wasn’t great, but she was getting better. It just took an incredible amount of concentration; she was starting to regret not taking Tia up on meditating together. It was frustrating, though, especially since when she’d removed Luke and Reggie’s stamps she hadn’t been trying at all. 

So she went to the front porch, and, once again, Luke found her.

“Nightmare?” he asked, settling on the step beside her and lifting his arm. She snuggled into his side, and he looped his arm around her, hand reaching up to rub at her scalp.

“No, just couldn’t sleep. Thinking about everything.”

Luke let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I get that. There’s a lot happening right now. I never thought I’d think about dying so much after I was actually dead.”

He was petting her hair, and Julie was losing the fight to stay awake, when she felt Luke’s voice rumble in his chest. “You know, I keep thinking about something that this bartender said the night we died.”

“What’s that?” she asked sleepily. 

“She was talking about how she felt connected to our music, and I was just thinking. . . That, our music, and the way we can make people feel things with it, that’s what’s keeping us alive. I mean, obviously not alive _alive,_ but. Being a ghost would be a lot more miserable if we didn’t have that. And you.”

“I’d be a lot more miserable if I didn’t have you either,” she said, and then froze, suddenly wide awake. “You and Reggie and Willie and Alex, I mean,” she sputtered, trying to cover her tracks. “You know, all my ghost friends.” 

“Right,” Luke said, voice amused. “ _That’s_ what you meant.” 

~

When Julie left with Flynn and the boys Sunday morning, she sent a quick prayer thanking God for caffeine and adrenaline. It had been harder to sleep last night than it had the night before, and her talk with Willie hadn’t helped. She felt. . . _sad_ for him, she supposed. He was still clearly beating himself up for his involvement with Caleb, and no matter what she and the boys had told him, he still didn’t seem to think he was welcome with them. Caleb had clearly done a number on Willie, and here they were, dragging him right back into the fire. And then she’d gone and stuck her foot in her mouth. She hadn’t been lying when she’d almost told Willie that Alex loved him, but it wasn’t her place to say, and besides, they probably deserved to go on a real first date before the L word was being dropped.

When they reached the block where they had to break off from Luke and Reggie, Julie felt panic clawing up her throat. This was, she was realizing, probably a very, _very_ stupid idea. She wasn’t just putting the boys at risk, but Flynn as well. But if they didn’t do this, then how would they save Alex? Her hands started shaking, and she shoved them in her pockets. She couldn’t break down right now; Alex and the others needed her. 

“Hey,” Luke said quietly enough that the others wouldn’t be able to hear. He brought up a hand to her cheek. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, biting her lip. 

He smiled at her, and the fear ringing in her head quieted a little. “Because you’re Julie Molina. Caleb doesn’t stand a chance against you.” 

She smiled back, and his eyes flickered down to her mouth. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him. . .

Willie coughed, and the spell was broken. 

Luke admonished them all to be careful, and then gave Willie a fist bump while Reggie hugged her. “See you on the other side?” he asked. He frowned. “Like the other side of whatever’s about to happen. Not the other side of life, or Hollywood, or—”

“Yeah, yeah, she gets it,” Luke said, slinging an arm around Reggie’s neck and tugging him away. “Let’s go save Alex’s ass. I swear, if he keeps lording over me that he did more push ups than me in sixth grade after this. . .”

Right before they disappeared, Luke turned around and winked.

~

“Okay, I know I get focused on my phone when I’m walking,” Flynn said, “but I definitely would have noticed this _giant ass building._ ”

Staring up at the colossal hotel in front of them, Julie couldn’t help but agree. The Club was massive; how had Caleb flown under the radar this whole time?

“It’s glamoured,” Willie explained. She still wasn’t used to the way Flynn’s eyes followed him, and she wished, selfishly, that Luke and Reggie had come too, if only to be able to talk to all of them at once. “Lifers can’t see it unless they know where to look.”

“Isla de Muerta,” Flynn muttered. Willie shrugged, not disagreeing, as they followed him into the building. “That bodes well.” 

They went in silence, but it didn’t really seem necessary; much like Willie had promised, the place was entirely empty. Still, she kept a wary eye out, looking into rooms to make sure they were still alone. A set of ornate grand doors caught her attention; she peered curiously in, and recognized what must be the grand ballroom. Julie froze in shock. “Everything okay?” Flynn asked nervously, so Julie shook her head in the affirmative and kept moving.

She would tell Flynn later, when they were safe and not in the middle of enemy territory, but Julie recognized it. It’d been the same place she’d seen all that time ago, right after the Orpheum, when they thought Alex was gone and he’d showed up in her dream. 

So what, she was Raven Baxter too now?

Flynn apparently sensed something was off, because she sped up to walk beside Julie and said, “so I’m guessing you weren’t just staring longingly at the Shake Shack across the street where we split up.”

“Luke and I were saying goodbye,” she admitted grudgingly.

“ _Girl._ ” Even though she was whispering, Julie could hear the teasing in her voice. “That was Romeo and Juliet level.”

“Please,” Willie snorted from where he was walking ahead of them. “That’s like a four on the Julie and Luke romantic tension scale. You should really be glad you can’t see the Luke half.”

Flynn’s grin grew sharper and Julie groaned. “Can you two unmeet, please?”

After a close call spent hiding in a very, _very_ cramped closet, even with Willie literally standing halfway through both her and Flynn, they finally reached the room Willie thought Alex would be in. They opened the door, and for the first time, Julie really thought everything was going to be okay: Alex was there, he was whole and somewhat hale. All they had to do was get him out of here and find Luke and Reggie. There was a light at the end of the tunnel.

And then Alex, voice crackling with fear, said _Caleb knows you’re here,_ and that brief moment of serenity came crashing down. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, hovering over Alex. Flynn fumbled with something, and suddenly there was a little light from the flashlight on her phone. Now that she could see Alex better, Julie’s heart sank; there were dark circles under his eyes, and his hands were trembling, nail marks bitten into his palms. Alex had pulled back his hand from Willie’s wrist, and Willie looked like a kicked puppy at the loss. “We have a plan. We’re distracting him.” 

Willie and Alex both went terrifyingly still, staring at something over her shoulder. “I’ve been in the game a long time, sweetheart,” a smooth voice said. “I know sleight of hand when I see it.”

Julie turned around slowly. Somehow, even in the dim light, Caleb Covington lit up the room. He stood casually, as if this rescue attempt was nothing but an amusing trifle, which, Julie supposed, it was for him. He didn’t care that Alex had people who loved him, or that Willie didn’t deserve to have his trust broken. She could smell the arrogance from here. “Let Alex go,” she said. 

“Julie,” someone warned, and she wasn’t sure if it was Willie or Alex. 

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “Or what?” he said snidely. “You’ll sing me to death? I think you forget, my dear, that I have all the power here. For example,” he snapped his fingers, and a spark of electricity bubbled on Alex’s chest. He screamed in pain, and Julie had a horrible realization. She’d removed Luke and Reggie’s stamps, and Willie was presumably free from it now that he had his soul back. 

Alex hadn’t been so lucky.

Alex’s screams died down to a whimper as the jolt finally died down, and Julie turned back to Caleb. He hadn’t moved, and was now leaning casually against the wall. “I suggest you take your dear friend Alexander’s advice and leave. I’m feeling oddly generous today, but I don’t think that mood will last for long.”

“We’re not leaving without Alex,” she said, glaring at him. She was trying to tap into whatever powers she had, but the key had been _focus,_ and right now her emotions were spiraling.

“Fine,” Caleb sighed tiredly. “Have it your way. But this is why I contract things out.” He snapped his fingers again, and, with the way Willie tensed beside her, she was expecting an army of Club ghosts to start swarming them. 

The reality was much worse.

In a burst of smoke, Reggie and Luke appeared. At first, Julie was relieved—maybe with back up, they would stand a chance—but then she saw their faces. Reggie was red-eyed, and Luke looked miserable. They were both standing stiffly, as if they were only upright by an invisible puppet string. Or maybe not so invisible, she thought, staring at the way Caleb was gleefully grinning.

This time, he waved his hand in a lazy circle. “Do take care of our guests, won’t you boys?”

Luke and Reggie lurched forward awkwardly. They were fighting it, taking a step back for every few steps forward, but both of their hands were glowing, and Caleb’s smile had only grown. Luke went to say something, but the second he tried, his mouth was slammed shut. 

“I’ll hold them off,” Willie said. “Get Alex free and then we’ll figure out how to get out of here.” Before Julie could protest, Willie lunged at Caleb, glowing green hands held out in front of him. He vanished, along with Caleb and Luke and Reggie.

She swallowed, turning back to where Alex was strapped down the table. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, and, if the dark room had been anything like this, Julie would never let Luke and Reggie tease him for crying again. 

“Okay, let’s get you up,” she said, thinking quickly. They needed to get him clear before she could help the others. Julie went to slide a hand under his shoulder, ready to lift him up.

Her hand sunk right through.

“Why can’t I touch you?” Julie said. Her voice was starting to turn thick with tears. She knew Alex was still under Caleb’s control, but she’d been counting on being able to lift his stamp the same way she had before. She loved Alex and Willie just like she did Luke and Reggie; why couldn’t she save _them?_ Julie looked up at Flynn. “Why can’t I touch him?”

“Why would you be able to touch me?” Alex asked bewildered. 

“She’ll explain later when we’re all not at risk for being killed by an evil Disney villain,” Flynn said tartly. She was looking around for some sort of solution, but as brilliant as Flynn was, Julie wasn’t holding out much hope.

“I _told_ them not to come. Nobody listens to me,” Alex groused as Julie’s hands fluttered around him, trying to figure out how to get him free. 

“Nobody listens to you because you’re an idiot,” Julie snapped, scared and frustrated and _tired._ There was a faint scream from down the hall, and Alex paled. “We managed to figure out how to save Luke and Reggie without throwing ourselves to the wolves.”

“I couldn’t leave Willie with Caleb either, Jules,” Alex said, softer this time. “And I couldn’t watch Luke and Reggie die. I was trying to be the adult in the situation.”

But Alex wasn’t an adult. None of them were, and this wasn’t _fair._ Her Mom had died and the guys had died and now they might die again, and Julie might have gotten Flynn killed too, and they were all just _kids._ Her biggest concern at this point in life should have been what to wear to prom, not fighting an impossible war. 

“Julie, just get Willie and Luke and Reggie, and _go,_ ” Alex said, staring straight at her as Julie slammed her fists against the side of the chaise lounge Alex was lying on in frustration. “As long as I’m here, Caleb can’t keep them. That was our deal.”

Flynn was biting her lip, which meant she didn’t disagree. 

“Alex,” Julie said, and yeah, now she was crying for real. “I can’t just leave you.” She looked up at Flynn, who was staring at her with compassion. “Why does this keep happening to me? I keep losing people I love, and I’ve never asked for much in life. I just wanted to sing with my band—”

She paused, sniffling, as what she had just said echoed in her brain.

When Julie had cured the boys, she’d just finished the biggest performance of her life. She’d been just as emotional every time she’d tried to touch Willie, and now with Alex, but she hadn’t been _singing_. She’d barely sang since the Orpheum, but the one time she had with Luke and Reggie, they’d nearly saved Alex. Maybe emotion wasn’t detrimental to whatever abilities she had; maybe she just needed a way to _channel_ that emotion. 

_Or what? You’ll sing me to death?_

She started humming the melody to Bright, and she could feel the thoughts ping-ponging in her brain settling quietly down. It was like the first time she’d worn glasses; everything was coming into focus. She switched from humming to singing, quietly at first and then louder. Julie held her hands over Alex again, but this time, she left them hovering slightly above him. There was some _force_ she could feel attached to Alex, draining him like a leech. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Flynn said.

“I’m super powering,” she said. 

“. . . _What_?” Alex asked. “I was gone for like two weeks.” 

Julie ignored them both, taking a deep breath as she started into the chorus. She could still feel Alex, but it was like a tree was blooming in her soul; she could also feel Luke, and Reggie and Willie, and Flynn, and her Dad and Carlos and Tia and all the people she cared about. The force tied to Alex was becoming visible, an ugly, pulsing thing sprouting out of his chest, so deep purple it was almost black. There were smaller, duller lines next to it, red and blue and green. It looked like she was hot wiring a car, Julie thought hysterically. Then she saw another line: a vivid bright purple string that called to Julie like a siren song. She focused on it, singing as loud as she could, thinking that she just wanted Alex to be safe. She wanted them _all_ to be safe. 

She finished the song. For a second, everything was quiet, and then the world went white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💅 💅 💅


End file.
